Chapter 2

Two

The knock on my door the next morning doesn't surprise me.

They were bound to seek me out for more information.

What does surprise me, is that only Joshua has come to talk. Werewolves, even out of their transformation, tend to find safety in numbers.

It's my turn to invite him in.

Another visitor might have waited for the time to tick over into the double digits before he came calling, but Joshua doesn't seem to care—or even notice—that I am still in my robe.

"You found me." I say as I lead him through the house, to the kitchen at the back.

"I did."

I don't have to look to know he's giving my home a thorough inspection.

His voice is deep, rasping in the cold morning. "You're not the only one who can hunt someone down."

"Did you sniff me out?" I smile as I fill the kettle and place it on the already brightening burner.

"No, though you are secluded enough, I can understand how you might think that's necessary."

I turn back as he flicks the frond of a palm away from his face and steps over the threshold into the kitchen. His gaze moves to the cabinets—not surprising, he's a carpenter—and I almost ask if he wants to give me an estimate to replace them.

"Isolation has more benefits than it has downsides when you're in the business of witchcraft in a small town."

"The location is cliche, the house…" He looks around, and I follow his gaze. The house is contemporary and I imagine he expected some cute little cottage. He was probably thinking of a dark house, stuffed with potion ingredients and dusty tomes—like the one I'd had to tear down after it almost collapsed. The one my great-great-grandfather had built.

Instead, Joshua has found wide windows—for the plants—flooding the space with morning light despite the trees and the clouds that are drizzling down on us."What do you need to know for tomorrow night?" I ask, pretty sure he's not here for the coffee.

"Just more details… how much fur, how long is it going to take, how can we avoid anyone else figuring out what we are? Small things."

"Ah," I pull the kettle from the stove as it starts to whistle. "Would you like tea or coffee?"

"Depends on what's in it."

I chuckle as I pull down the canisters. "Pure arabica or Earl Grey. What you add after, is up to you."

"Coffee and answers would be nice."

While I set the timer for the French press, I pull a cup down. The crockery has tektite in the chips in the glaze, a stone meant to promote communication, transformation, and vitality. Perfect for my wolfy visitor in search of a conversation.

I choose the mug that has a wire wrapped bloodstone attached to the handle for similar and completely different reasons.

"I won't need much of your fur." Reaching up to pull loose a tendril of my own hair, I pull it apart until I can pinch the little I'll need between my fingers. "Just this much from each of you. And I'll take it from your ruff."

Dropping the hair, I tap my fingers on my décolletage. His eyes follow the movement and linger.

It gives me time to look him over too.

He looks ready for a work day. Boots, jeans, a plain t-shirt underneath a Carhartt jacket. Everything fits him like he was poured into his clothing.

The third part of the spell is looking more and more delectable.

"How long will it take?"

I'm glad he asks the question again, distraction made me forget."Casting the spell will take about five minutes. The second transformation you will go through that night should take the same amount of time your normal one does." I wait, raising my brows, letting him supply the time for that.

"It varies, but five minutes for me, twelve or thirteen for Chase. He's the slowest."

It amuses me that he knows. It means that they have been together for a long time. That's even better for my spell.

I plunge the French press and hand him his coffee, pulling cream and sugar from their places at and near the fridge.

"So five for the casting, thirteen for your change to something in between. After that, your part in the spell can technically be done, though I would suggest you take some time to get used to your new forms before you run off into the night."

"And the second part of the spell?" He asks, taking a long sip without adding anything to the black liquid.

"That will take all of two minutes."

Only one brow rises, cup still to his lips. And I realize he wasn't asking about the second part, but the third.

"Two minutes to rebind the wolves' spirits to me instead of you.

"The third part… Again, depends on you." I stir in my cream and sugar and take a long sip. "How long does it normally take each of you to come?"

He sputters into his coffee, but he doesn't choke on it. And when he looks up at me, there's something scolding and dangerous in his eyes.

It's a warning I should probably heed, but I've never been one to step back when I'm this close to something I want.

I set my half-full cup down on the counter and move closer to him, letting the robe slip off one shoulder. "I wouldn't mind doing a trial run now… You can decide if you want to partake tomorrow."

Once again, his gaze drops to my breasts. His coffee cup joins mine and his hand reaches up, his palm brushing over the silky fabric of my nightgown.

The sensation tightens my nipple to a hard bud, and I breathe in, pressing my breast more firmly into his hand.

"Would you like to try me out, Joshua?"

His eyes snap up to meet mine. And I brush the other side of my robe and strap from my shoulder.

The robe falls to my kitchen floor, the nightgown slithers to bunch at my hips.

His hand hovers an inch away from me, and his eyes search mine, not looking down at the skin I've exposed.

Maybe I miscalculated.

But just as I go to reach for the straps again, to cover myself and cease offending him, he moves forward. Cupping that same breast, his hand wraps around me, pressing at the small of my back, forcing me to move closer, to press fully against him.

His cock is hard against my stomach.

Sunlight spills in on us, and his teeth gleam as he bears them at me in a smile. "What is on the table?"

Me, with any luck.

"Anything and everything today and tomorrow night."

He doesn't look certain. Hand snaking down, he squeezes my ass, pulling my cheeks open. "Anything?"

"Everything." I reach behind me and take his wrist, guiding his hand down to press his fingers against me. The nightgown between us slides over me with a smoothness that lacks the slickness of lube, but it twists the hot coil in my abdomen tighter.

"What do you want to do to me?" I let go of his wrist, but don't make him move his hand, and am rewarded with swirling fingers. "How would you take your pleasure?"

With his other thumb still drawing lazy circles around my nipple, Joshua's gaze drops to my lips and he licks his.

"Joshua," I say his name, lowly, a ward, or possibly a tightly bound curse. "Are you going to put those lips to better use? Or are you the sort of guy who can't actually follow through when a woman is willing and waiting?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's not safe to challenge a werewolf?"

"If you were truly a danger to me, you never would have made it over the threshold."

"There are a hundred different kinds of danger. I'm beginning to think you're one of them."

I bite my tongue and try not to laugh.

When he kisses me, it's like that sunlight streaming through the window is ice cold. Nothing compares to the heat flooding through me.

His hand slides lower still, and I barely register as it fists in the fabric at the hem of my nightgown. With a single tug, he pulls the fabric down, over my hips, and gravity does the rest.

His warm hands trail over my skin, questing about like I belong to him… and for the moment, I suppose I do.

Pressing more deeply into the kiss, I slide my hands up his chest, the soft fabric of his t-shirt skimming beneath my palms. When I reach his thick neck, I dig my fingers into the muscles and silently congratulate myself as he bends against my touch.

Men are malleable. Werewolves don't always fall into that same category, but they all have their pressure points. And wolves' are usually food or touch.

He groans as I dig my thumb into a knot and gently pulls back.

"I can't tell if you're trying to distract me…"

"Like I said, I want your pleasure." It's one of the easiest ways to take my own.

"Keep that up, and I may forget what we're doing." He brushes his thumb over my kiss swollen lips. "Did you plan this?"

I know what he means. Did I ensorcel him some way to make him come to me.

"No. I haven't cast any spell on you yet, and I don't perform the kind of magic you're implying. You're here because you made the decision." I suck his thumb, swirling my tongue around it before I say. "I didn't expect to be naked for a werewolf in my kitchen this morning."

"You need to take me somewhere, or I'm going to fuck you right on this kitchen floor."

It was tempting… but if I got my way tomorrow night, it would be all hard surfaces.

I wasn't about to lead him to my bedroom. Sacred spaces weren't meant for first-time sex. So I take his hand and drag him through the door that leads to my favorite room in the house.

The ceiling is sloping glass and the sofa I lead him to is a deep leather creation settled between my veritable jungle of overgrown potted plants.

He doesn't seem to notice the space, other than that couch.

With a hand to my sternum, he pushes me back onto it and shrugs out of his coat, immediately wrenching his shirt off. The belt and jeans follow in rough movements after. But I'm the one who grabs the band of his boxers and releases a cock so beautiful, I don't hesitate to press my lips to the swollen head.

He's big, but I know hell be bigger after his transformation.

Looking up, I smile against his cock. God, I hope they agree to it.

His hand smooths over my hair, fingers spearing into it, and I only realize he's pulling the hair tie free when it falls down around my shoulders.

Those fingers comb through my hair until he can wrap his hand around my neck at the base of my skull, and then I have to relax my jaw as he slides himself between my lips.

He controls the pace, the depth.

Another time, I'd force his hand away and take back control, but this is sex meant to convince him to come back. Sex he needs to control until I find out exactly what he likes.

So I let him fuck my throat and just enjoy the ride.

"Is this alright?"

I laugh, because how am I supposed to answer that with my mouth full?

But he understands. "Good."

His pace slows, with each stroke, he presses deeper. But never so deep that I'm at risk of gagging.

And then, he pulls back entirely.

With a hum, I swallow the saliva left over from his invasion. "I don't get to drink your come today?"

I run my finger along the bottom of his cock and bite my lip when it twitches.

Instead of answering, he finds his jeans and digs through the pockets.

While he rummages, I slide back onto the couch and play with the wetness left behind from the delicious cock.

I hear the foil tear before he turns around, and he slides the condom on before he turns around.

And he pauses before he steps forward. I know the question that's running through his mind.

"No, you won't be using those tomorrow, if you agree to it. None of you can get me pregnant, and the transformation burns all diseases out of your body… But you didn't know that, did you?"

"I did not."

He hesitates, hand on his cock, another question unasked, lingering behind those eyes.

"I told you. Anything you want. So… you can keep it on, take it off." I shrug and lick my lips one more time. "Just get inside me."

The sound that comes from him is a feral growl, and he yanks it off, tossing it back with the pants that had once housed it.

But he doesn't pull me to the front of the couch and drive himself home. He picks me up, turning, and falls back on the couch himself, holding me up so that only the tip of him brushes against me.

When he releases my hips, there's nowhere to go but down, But his hands cup either side of my face, and he plunders my mouth as I slowly descend onto his cock.

Joshua doesn't pull back from the kiss until I'm fully impaled on him. And then, it's to search my eyes. "Still okay?"

He'd been trying to distract me.

"You can be rough with me, Joshua. I'm not going to break."

"Let's get you used to my cock first. I don't want to wear you out… if we do decide to track you down tomorrow night."

The idea of it makes me clench around him, and it's my turn to choose the pace.

Knees sinking into the leather cushions, I can only rise halfway off of him.

For the moment, that's enough.

His hands run up my sides, tracing the lines of my ribs, the curve of my breasts. He's learning my body as I get it used to taking his neck.

Each brush of his skin passing over mine feels like the faint sting of electricity.

With a little wiggle, I manage to break his concentration, and manage to hide my smile at the moan that slips from between his teeth, by using mine to bite him.

"I think I'm ready to be manhandled." I breathe the words against his jaw, but I know he hears me.

His fingers dig into my hips, and he pulls back to look me in the eye. "Don't test me, woman."

"Not up to it?" I don't dim my smile this time.

And maybe that was a mistake.

I'm not certain how he does it, but a moment later, I'm on my back, looking up at him, and he's standing in front of me, that beautifully hard cock pointing toward me almost like an accusation.

I don't get the chance to make a joke.

He picks me up, an arm under each leg, making it easy to maneuver me how he likes.

And it's exactly how I like.

If he wasn't a werewolf, I'd have been worried about his ability to hold me up long, as he angles me and presses into my pussy.

Each of his swinging thrusts bounce me off his glorious cock, only to send me right back onto it.

Cool morning air sweeps across me from the open windows, and I moan against his shoulder.

"Show off," I say between panting breaths.

After that, things start to get blurry.

He's using me to reach that pleasure we both want, and my body responds by driving me higher with each thrust. Each time he pulls me down onto him, it pushes me toward that beautiful precipice.

And then, I'm falling…

Joshua drops to his knees, one hand catching us before he crushes me against the tile.

This isn't sex, it's mating. Pure, unadulterated, animalistic coupling.

The cold, hard stone at my back, makes it even more primal.

Coiling tighter, I feel my orgasm clawing its way out of me. And then it bursts through me.

Energy and light and… Him.

He cries out at the same time I do, and I'm filled with a different kind of magic.