


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WEREWULF JOURNALS 4.5

PANTY EXPRESS

 

 

 

 

Camille Anthony

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

www.loose-id.com



 

 

 

Warning

 

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.



 

Werewulf Journals 4.5: Panty Express

Camille Anthony

 

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

Published by

Loose Id LLC 

870 Market St, Suite 1201

San Francisco CA  94102-2907

www.loose-id.com

 

 

Copyright © February 2009 by Camille Anthony

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

 

 

ISBN 978-1-59632-897-6

Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

 

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

 

Editor: Maryam Salim

Cover Artist: April Martinez



 

 

 

Dedication

 

This story takes place after the prologue of the story Hunting Chase, coming this spring from Loose Id, LLC, and is for all the readers who’ve waited for these stories as long as Chase has waited for his Andrea. Thanks for your determination and loyalty.



Chapter One

Andrea

 

“Goddess Moon, Andi, I’ve got to have a taste of you!” With no more warning than that, Chase dragged her over onto his lap.

His hard mouth came down on hers and Andrea gasped, shuddering under the flood of scalding sensations. His mouth, his lips, played hers softly, a contrast to his firm and masterful grip on her forearms. She moaned at the assault, her insides liquefying as his forceful tongue swiped over her clenched lips. This kiss promised to be every bit as potent as the one they’d shared in the church lobby before her mom’s wedding. Now, like then, he wasn’t satisfied with her closed lips.

With a growl of discontent, his tongue pressed hard at the seam of her mouth, wordlessly demanding entry. When she didn’t respond quickly enough, Chase lifted his head and gazed down into her eyes, hazel irises lit with the golden glow of prechange. “I want that pink little tongue. Open for me, my own.”

Any idiot could see he hadn’t meant it as a request. She almost swallowed said tongue at the gruff, sexy command. Gulping, Andrea complied, feeling the heat as Chase’s focused gaze burned her from the inside out. Skin prickling with nerves and the edgy tingle of arousal, she opened to him because she could do nothing less.

His tongue swept in…tangled with hers, claimed her mouth, and…fire raced under her skin, small explosions of lust popping and fizzing in the wake of his lips. Oh gods, she melted in his arms, melted between her legs. She knew he could smell her surrender, almost taste her growing need for him.

Chase tore his mouth away to drop quick, hard kisses along her neck. He ran his tongue over the white scar of his mark, igniting a blaze along her skin. “Mother Moon…your mouth is so sweet…so hot!”

Andi twisted, too antsy to hold still as his broad hands shaped and molded her slight curves. She shook, fisting her hands in his hair as his low-voiced groans vibrated along the tender flesh of her breasts. “Take me in your mouth, Chase. Suck my nipples, please!”

Her nipples burned, beaded, and pushed against the material of her bodice, the silky swatch suddenly feeling coarse and scratchy against the sensitive nubs. When his broad palm captured one small hill, fingers pinching the jutting point of her left breast, she screamed into his mouth, excitement and fear pooling and swirling in her belly.

“Yes! Scream for me, baby,” he crooned gently before taking her mouth again. Mouth moving on hers, Chase pulled down her bodice and flicked open the front closures of her strapless bra, smoothing the edges to either side so he could cup her meager flesh in the palms of his hands. “It’s okay… I’ve got you, baby. I swear I won’t hurt you, but I have to see… Let me look…” His words trickled away as his body went rigid. He stilled.

Andrea froze. Please let him like them! Please let him like them!

Though she was practically blind in the limo’s dim interior, she knew Chase was gazing at her exposed breasts, could see every inch of the insignificant curves. Was he disappointed? Was she too skinny, her breasts too small? Anxiety was a tornado swirling in the pit of her stomach. Trembling, she watched Chase’s thumbs brushing across her air-clad nipples. They stiffened harder under his firm flicks.

“Oh, baby, you’re beautiful here!”

Andrea melted against Chase, shuddering, glad beyond measure he was pleased with what he’d uncovered. A moment later, her mouth opened in a soundless cry as he caught one sensitive tip in his mouth, pulled it up against the heated pressure of tongue and teeth, and began suckling in greedy draws.

Keening, her back bowing, Andi arched her torso under his hands as her body exploded out of her control. She clawed at his arms and then at the hair at the nape of his neck, demanding more of the frighteningly delightful sensations his mouth was engendering. “Oh God, Chase, I’m burning up!”

In the darkness of the limousine, he lifted her voluminous skirts and sent one broad palm coasting up the valley between her shaking thighs, so close to touching her aching, swollen flesh. She widened her legs, hoping he’d take the hint and touch her there, where she burned and wept.

Chase lifted his head, letting her nipple pop out of his mouth. The warm air of the dark, enclosed space swirled around the engorged tip, bathing it softly. She missed the hotter environs of his mouth, the way his lips curled around and caressed her needy breast, missed the strong pull connecting her nipple directly to her weeping vagina.

His mouth moved, but instead of taking her back between his lips, Chase spoke. “I want you, Andi, but we’re not children to be satisfied with playing games. If we don’t stop now, I’m going to fuck you. Our first time will be right here in the back of this limousine.”

Did he think she took that as a threat? Andrea loosened one of her hands from the stranglehold she had on his biceps and placed it over his lying high on her thigh. Not high enough. She moaned, “Don’t stop!” and dragged his hand up until it covered the damp curls shielding the swollen lips of her sex. “Please, Chase…don’t stop!”

“I won’t. I can’t now.” His lips captured hers as his hand cupped her mound, applying pressure to her clit and labia. “You’re so wet for me, so hot and juicy. You’re going to burn me up when I take you.”

Andrea twisted her torso until her breasts mashed against the stiff material of his tux, the broadcloth abrading her jutting tips, sending her spiraling into a higher state of arousal. Her fingers made short work of unbuttoning his shirt. Chase kept his hands and fingers busy stoking the fire building in her blood while she spread the tails of his dress shirt wide. A greedy moan fell from her lips just before she latched them around the flat brown nipple buried in a thick mat of golden fur.

His chest expanded under her hands and mouth as Chase caught his breath in an uneven sigh. “Fuck, yeah! Suck me, Andi, baby. I love the feel of your mouth on me.”

She obeyed him, and he rewarded her by sinking one long, facile finger deep into her flooding depths. The sudden invasion startled her. Instinctively, her knees tried to snap shut, but his broad shoulders prevented the impulsive action. One hand supporting her back, the other starting a slow, steady pumping action, Chase primed Andi, stoked her banked fires into a heated conflagration, circling the naked, sensitive underside of her clit.

Andi’s belly drew taut. She released his nipple and keened, knees coming up, widening as her body responded to the jagged bolts of sensation searing her gut. Need ate at her like shards of splintered glass, cutting up her self-control. “I hurt, Chase… Please, I want you so badly.”

“You’re not ready yet.” Chase added another long finger, slowly fucking in and out of her. “I’m big, baby. You need stretching or I’ll hurt you when I enter you. Just relax and enjoy.”

“I’m so ready,” she retorted, panting and pumping her hips up, trying to force his fingers deeper. She could hear the liquid noise those two limber digits made, twisting and scissoring inside her.

Chase ignored her pleas, bending his mouth to reclaim hers, stealing her breath as he continued working her sex like a virtuoso. Her arousal flowed freely, coating his fingers, spilling out around them to slick the tops of her thighs. He added a third finger, tongue lapping in her mouth as she mewled at the pinching pain.

Andi groaned as her intimate flesh stretched uncomfortably to accommodate the extra girth. Her fingers dug into the hard muscles of Chase’s forearms. She tore her mouth away, gasping for air. “Ah!”

“Shh!” He hushed her, wicked mouth traveling to her throat, drawn back to his mark over and over. His tongue bathed the sensitive patch, sparking miniature explosions at the site and throughout her straining body. “Almost there, sweetheart.”

Chase withdrew his fingers and twisted, moving to lay her down against the soft leather of the bench seat. Hanging over her, he smiled down at her, one hand coming up to brush down the side of her cheek, smoothing away a tear she hadn’t known she’d shed. His eyes and teeth gleamed in the dim light, warm breath washed over her chin, then her breasts as he slid down her body, raising her skirts as he lowered his torso, heading for the delta of her thighs. He pushed the billowing material into her hands saying, “Here…hold this.”

Kneeling between her splayed legs, Chase forced her wider apart, using his shoulders to hold her open and ready for his assault. Licking his lips, he sent a finger foraging into her, testing how wet and slippery she was. Her muscles clenched down on the marauder, capturing it, pulsating around it.

“Chase!” Andi released the choked cry, hips jerking as her heart rate kicked up. She was desperately fighting to maintain her sanity under the mind-boggling sensations Chase was building inside her. She clung to him like a drowning person clings to a lifeline, pulse pounding as Chase used his thumbs to pull her nether lips apart and bare her most secret flesh to his avid gaze.

“Now, isn’t this is a pretty, dainty-looking pussy, little bitch. Thank the Moon your breed body is designed for rough usage because it’s been a long time since I’ve fed on a dish this fine. I’ll try to be gentle, but I’m so greedy I might lose myself in tasting.”

His mouth descended then, and all her words dissipated under the lashing of his tongue. She became a creature of nerve endings and rushing blood, a primeval female offering her substance to nurture her mate, feeding him from her loins.

“Oh God!” Andi fisted her hands in Chase’s hair, pulling him closer as she rolled her hips up, pushing her mound into his mouth. Shudders rippled through her, each wave gaining in strength as his heated breaths bathed her, his wide tongue lapped her from anus to clit, over and over again. The slurping sounds of his greed liquefied her womb and her cream poured out, chasing his stabbing tongue and flooding his sucking mouth.

Under her hands, his shoulders bulked, pressing her legs so wide the strain told in her hip joints. Fur, sleek and luxurious, flowed across his shoulders and down his back, rippling into being as she clung for purchase in a world gone erotically wild. His mouth, still eating at her vagina like a man starved, elongated into a point between human norm and wulf muzzle. Chase’s cold nose rubbed on the underside of her clit as he pushed his tongue so far up her channel the pleasure had her lolling half off the seat, upper torso bowed back as her spine arched.

“Fuck me…fuck me,” she pleaded, both hands tugging on his hair, trying to force him up and over her. Frantic to feel him inside her, Andi let one foot drop to the floor and hiked the other over the back of the seat.

Chase looked up at her from over the small swell of her belly, his mouth still busily driving her insane. He winked at her, eyes dancing as he slid a finger into her and worked it forcibly in her clinging vagina. He added another finger. “Moon and stars, Andi,” he growled, licking his chops, “your pussy is so snug you’re almost strangling my fingers. You’ll grip my cock so tightly, glove me so good… I can’t wait any longer.”

“Don’t wait then, Chase! Put it in me! Put it in!” Tears fell in torrents as the pleasure ballooned and morphed into a painfully orgasmic ecstasy that threatened to rip her control to shreds. Andi was like a wild woman, head tossing side to side, teeth bared in a lustful grimace as she rode the three fingers stretching her untried opening.

The tornado building within her eased down to hurricane force as Chase withdrew his sopping fingers and brought them to his mouth. Capturing her eyes, he stared down at her as he licked his fingers clean. Andi stared at his grinning mouth, wishing she were close enough to kiss the residue of her essence from his shining cheeks and jaws.

Grin fading into a soft smile, Chase undid the fastening of his pants, pushed slacks and underwear down to free his penis.

A gush of cream spilled from her even as her heartbeat stumbled at sight of the massive organ pointed at her small sex. That was no penis; it was a cock -- long and thick and rearing toward his abdomen, springing from the round, furred balls hanging in a weighty mass between his corded thighs. Fear swelled as she watched Chase fist his cock and stroke it, his broad palm barely containing the thick column. How would it ever fit inside her?

He didn’t give her time to worry about it. Kneeling on the seat on one leg, the other stretched out on the floor, Chase lifted Andi’s hips and aimed his cock at her vagina. He pressed in enough to part her puffy, blood-swelled lips and circle the blunt head against her clit. It slipped and slid through her slick juices, rolling against the hard little knot of nerves above the entrance to her vagina.

With a guttural cry, his hips surged forward. The bulbous tip lodged in the narrow opening, refusing to go farther. Chase pulled back and lunged forward again. This time, the huge head punched partway through the elastic mouth of her sex. “Goddess Moon, you are tight…and so hot you’re singeing the head of my cock.”

“It hurts so good, Chase!”

“Then open up and let me all the way in, sweet bitch. Let me in --”

 

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Open this door and let me in, Andrea Montalvo!”

Her mother’s frantic voice yanked her from yet another dream of Chase. Andrea’s eyes snapped open. With a pissed-off snarl and groan of frustration, she snatched her hand from between her sloppy thighs, body so wet from this last fantasy she could have used a bathing suit and a lifeguard…but only if the guard was Chase McCallum.

“Rosa, I’ve told you not to do that. There’s nothing wrong with our daughter.”

“How can you say that, Fort? I heard her crying and --”

“And had to rush to her side. I know, sweetheart, only to have your mate drag you away again.”

“But she was crying!”

“Yes,” Fort agreed, a note of suppressed laughter in his voice. “The same cries I wring from you when I’m fucking that sweet pussy and hitting all the right spots.”

“Madre de Dios, Fort! We are standing in front of our daughter’s bedroom! She might hear you!”

“I’m sure she does. I’m also sure she’d like us to move away from her bedroom so she can get on with what she was doing.”

“Too late for that, Papa Fort!” Andrea hollered, having no intention of opening her door. It was bad enough knowing her parents were aware she was having horny dreams and masturbating to them. She sighed, glad they were going out to celebrate a huge gallery showing. At least she could avoid the knowing glances and pitying looks over dinner.

Waiting until she heard the door to the master bedroom shut in the distance, Andrea crept to the bathroom to freshen up. After a quick shower, she stood before the medicine cabinet, staring into the small mirror. Her eyes looked feverish, her black hair unkempt, hanging like a cloud of soot about her wan face.

All her vitality seemed to leech out in those dreams. They used to come sporadically, once or twice a month. Now she was plagued almost daily with visions of Chase touching her, kissing her, finishing what he’d started in the back of the limousine the night of her high school prom. Instead of relieving the pressure, she always felt worse after she woke up.

Hands curled into fists, Andrea gritted her teeth. She couldn’t take it anymore. Chase had become a fever she couldn’t shake, a drug she couldn’t resist. Every inch of her body hurt, the pain growing worse each day she was parted from her true-bond mate, until now; she had reached her limit. She had to do something to gain the attention of the males in her life. They seemed to have forgotten she was a breed anomaly, one of the human-wulf hybrids genetically engineered to be mates for one of the thousands of wulves stranded on Earth when their spaceship crashed eons ago.

Human law might label her a child because she wasn’t quite eighteen years old, but her bioengineered genetics negated those laws. By striving to adhere to human rules and regulations, her wulf father, uncle, and Alphas had caused her to suffer unmitigated pain. Well, enough was enough! It was time she took matters in her own hands.

Chapter Two

Chase

 

“Boss, mail carrier is coming up the elevator. She has the delivery.”

The wulf seated at the sprawling desk paused, pen stilling as the news sank in. A second later, his pen started moving again as he returned to filling out the monthly reports he hated. He did them because they were part of his responsibility as acting Alpha and he wouldn’t shirk the duty no matter how much he abhorred it.

He could feel Taylor’s gaze on him, could almost taste the pity rolling off the guard’s skin. Chase bit back the growl rumbling under his breath, reining in his need for violence. He fucking wouldn’t tolerate his second in command feeling sorry for him, though.

Without looking up, he continued writing. “Is it the usual?”

“Smells like the panty express, yes sir, but --”

An impatient sigh preceded terse commands as Chase impatiently cut off his head enforcer’s explanation. “You know the drill, Taylor. Don’t allow anyone but the mail carrier to fucking touch it. Show her through to this office, and once she’s gone, take an hour break.”

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you unguarded that long, Alpha.”

Without warning, Chase exploded from behind his desk, tackling Taylor, taking him down, claws curling around the taller man’s throat. Thrusting his elongated muzzle in the startled wulf’s face, he shook him like a rag doll. “Does this look like I need your protection, beta?”

“No, sir!” Taylor was careful to let his weight sag in Chase’s hold, dropping his body and placing his face on a lower level. Tilting his head, he exposed his neck.

Chase was fed up with being second-guessed, tired of the wulves in his Pack thinking him too civilized to resort to typical wulf behavior. Pissed and on edge, he took his second up on the ritual offer of submission and tore into Taylor’s throat, coming away with a sizable chunk. Ravaging the black wulf’s neck, leaving the mark of his mastery, would send a message to all the wulves under him.

Taylor whimpered, releasing a short, sharp burst of pee that burned Chase’s nose, a signal of total surrender even he, enraged as he was, could not ignore. Except in leadership challenges, wulves did not fight to the death. He pulled back and released Taylor, fangs still exposed -- bared and bloody. Breathing hard, he issued a command. “Never question my orders again.”

The bigger wulf gained his feet, stood swaying while blood ran down his neck, disappearing as it soaked into his black crewneck pocket T-shirt. He bowed his head. “I hear you.”

Anger still riding him, Chase backed up to the desk, leaned against it with arms crossed, legs spread and shoulders stiff, watching his bodyguard drip blood on his office floor. “Don’t just hear, obey! Go and clean yourself up. Oh, and Taylor?”

The conquered wulf glanced up and quickly down again. “Sir?”

“If you will not follow my orders, you are useless to me.”

Black eyes met hazel. Black dropped. “I’ve always followed your orders, Alpha.”

Chase almost chuckled. The damned guard couldn’t help answering back. He was hardwired that way. “I should have said follow without giving me any backchat.”

“Riight.” Taylor raised an eyebrow before he padded to the door. Just before he opened it, he paused with his hand on the cut glass knob. “I mean no disrespect, Alpha, but I wouldn’t be living up to the trust you placed in me if I didn’t draw your attention to how violently you’re reacting to something that isn’t a challenge.”

Claws digging into his palms, Chase fought against a new swell of anger and the urge to pound on the burly black wulf again. “Explain yourself.”

Continuing to face the hallway, Taylor nodded. “It’s about the panty express, sir. You didn’t give me time to tell you before.” The guard started to glance over his shoulder, paused. “No sooner was the package in the building, than the perimeter guards were going wild, snapping and snarling at each other, some in danger of shifting right in front of the humans. I’d already dismissed most of them -- the ones not mated, in danger of getting out of control -- before you’d ordered it. There’s something different about that package today, Alpha. I can feel it. I think you’re feeling it too.”

That gave Chase pause. Could he be reacting this strongly because of the panty express? While he routinely became horny, hard as a monolith, he’d never savaged his second in command before. Thinking about it, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility. What the fuck was in that package this month? “If what you say is so, why are you able to resist it?”

Still not looking at him, Taylor shrugged. “No secret I don’t like your bitch, sir. I really don’t like her. Subsequently, I don’t want her. I feel the itch, true, but” -- he shrugged again -- “I have someone scratching my itch.”

It made sense. Chase’s hackles lowered as he bowed his head, the unreasoning anger riding him draining away the moment he turned the light of reason on it. He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers combing through the thick strands of hair brushing his collar, chagrined at this proof of his vulnerability. He was the dammed Alpha, for Moon’s sake! He wasn’t allowed to screw up like this. “Fuck, I got sideswiped.”

Taylor’s hand went up to his own neck, fingers exploring the already-healing flesh. “No harm, no foul, sir. A public reaffirmation of my submission was overdue. As always, it is my duty and my honor to carry your mark.”

“Nice spin, but I don’t think anyone will buy it.” He certainly didn’t. Chase extended his hand and then realized his man couldn’t see the silent gesture. “Oh for star’s sake, turn around.” Once the wulf was facing him, he grimaced at the sight of the angry-looking wound.

“If everyone else responds like I did, chaos is likely to boil up. We’d better clear the rest of the men out before our humans start realizing something is up. The last thing we need is for them to let their fear turn them into prey. I am sorry for going off on you and will apologize more formally later, but for now we need to make sure this situation doesn’t get any worse.”

Bowing from the waist in a deep obeisance, his second in command offered respect. “It is forgotten, Lord” -- he quirked his brow -- “until you fuck up again.” Taylor chuffed, the wulfen laughter low and deep. He pulled the door open and looked back over his shoulder. “Then I’ll gladly remind you of this loss of control.”

The door closed on his continued laughter, and Chase couldn’t help snorting, admitting, if only to himself, that he deserved the other wulf’s derision. It wasn’t so long ago he’d been the one answerable to Taylor, who had been his mentor, the wulf assigned to see to the safety of the Alpha-elect. Having his consequence tweaked by his long-term retainer was the least he should allow for taking a chunk out of his throat. Despite Taylor’s words, the other wulves would see the mark and know he’d been disciplined. Public sign of submission, my ass! Chase knew his actions hadn’t been fair to the head guard.

Sighing, he returned to his desk, sat down, and stared off into the distance. He’d find a way to make it up to Taylor, but right now, he needed to finish the damned reports so he could concentrate on all the other responsibilities he had lined up on today’s calendar. Taking up his pen, he gathered the scattered reports and proceeded to sit motionless, staring at them. A few minutes later, he threw the pen back down and leaned back in the padded leather chair, running his hands backward through his wedge-cut hair.

He fucking didn’t need this right now. His day was packed with appointments, his afternoon filled with meetings. He couldn’t afford to take an hour out of the middle of his workday, but he couldn’t afford not to, either. Chase knew he wouldn’t be worth shit once that package got within five feet of him. Hell, look how he’d already lost it, and the carrier hadn’t made it to his floor yet.

Truthfully, this month’s delivery had caught him unawares. He’d forgotten to plan for it…and he shouldn’t have. Damn Hunter, anyway. His estranged cousin from hell was nothing if not punctual with his torture. Still, with all the brouhaha around possibly finding the site of the Drestovian spaceship, his attention had been eaten up by phone calls, planning travel itineraries, and the waning hope he could head off the world demolition planned by his insane father.

Chase’s gut clenched, churning with nerves. His cock remained at rigid attention. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he hissed, grabbed at the jean material stretched across his crotch. He tugged, pulling the stiff material away from his painfully swollen erection. He’d gone hard as soon as Taylor announced the impending postal delivery and now his cock was so extended the pain throbbed in his engorged balls and down his legs, radiating all through his aching body.

The panty express was the nickname his guards had given the monthly delivery from Hunter McCallum. It was rightly named. Three months after Chase had marked her as his, a still-angry Hunter had somehow managed to get his hands on a pair of Andrea’s worn panties. He’d shipped the undies to him and continued to ship another pair each month, about the same time.

The first delivery had caused all sorts of trouble the day it arrived. A tragedy was barely averted. The guard that accepted the package from the postal carrier to deliver to Chase was overcome by the breed pheromones wafting from the box. The wulf opened it, handled Andrea’s fragrant underwear, and released the concentrated pheromones into the office complex’s recycled-air system. He went into feral rut, as did every other unmated wulf in whiffing distance. Soon, the complex was ripe with the breed enzymes, and the hapless wulves were responding ferally to that heady mix painting the air with tantalizing fumes.

Andrea’s scent, mingled with that of another wulf’s, had driven Chase mad. He’d responded violently, attacking the guard and beating him beyond submission, to within an inch of his life. Fifteen other wulves had lined up, hungry for a whiff of his mate, and he’d ripped his way through them all, intent on gaining possession of the tattered pair of underwear. The fighting had been so brutal, Chase’s punishing blows so vicious, that from then on -- at the first sighting of the panty express -- the unmated wulves vacated the floor, leaving Chase in lone possession and lonely, horny splendor.

Now, if Taylor was correct, it seemed Hunter had upped the ante. What was different this month, he wondered. What had sent his men into frenzies and him over the edge? Chase swiveled in his chair, fighting to keep his breaths from coming too fast, his anticipation rising as he waited for the elevator to ding.

Soon, he’d be handling cloth that had touched Andrea’s sweet-smelling cunt, lain against her softest, wettest skin. His office would reek of her musk for days, and he would wallow in her scent, indulge himself with the luscious, earthy tones of her innocent essence. He swallowed hard, salivating at the thought. No wulf had ever looked forward to being tortured more.

Down the hall, the faint ding of the elevator arriving had Chase straightening at his desk. The whoosh of the pneumatic doors opening brought his excited anticipation to the fore and he unconsciously inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring wide to catch that first elusive scent of peppery cloves, cinnamon, and oranges -- the distinctive aroma of his woman’s essence.

This month’s panty express was packing heat. Pure adrenaline twined with nitroglycerine and triggered a burst of explosive lust. The emotional bomb detonated, firing up both mind and body. The last coherent thought that went through his reeling mind was that something was definitely different. It must have been that last night he’d spent with her, prom night. He’d exchanged enough of his DNA with her to activate her alien biology. She was no longer only human. His little breed had come into full maturity and was ready to be fucked.

The sound of the human carrier’s oncoming footsteps sounded in the hall and his cock twitched, need spiking so painfully in the hard flesh he had to grit his teeth to hold back the howls of pain clawing in his throat. The closer the panty express came, the more his passion would rise.

Chase whimpered.

Chapter Three

Andrea

 

“You little brat, Drew! Let go my nightgown!”

Andrea couldn’t help laughing as she tugged at the cotton nightie held firmly between the tightly clenched jaws of her little brother. Like most puppies, Drew loved playing tug, but she didn’t have time to do this now. “Come on, honey…be good. I have a lot to get done before Shelley comes over. She’s coming over to keep me company since all our other friends will be out on dates. We’re going to catch a sloppy, romantic movie tonight.”

A shake of his head tore the cloth from between her fingers, and the rambunctious pup ripped down the hall, his paws scrabbling on the slippery tile.

“Oh, no you don’t!” With a burst of speed, Andrea chased after her younger sibling. His barks urging her on, she giggled, heading him off in the living room. Arms spread wide, she pivoted with the puppy, his tail wagging crazily. “Last chance, doggy breath. Give up the goods or I’ll pound you!”

“You won’t hurt me. Dam will school you. My Sire will nip you.”

She wasn’t buying his sophistry. Responding verbally, she handed out a reality check. “Ha! I’ll have you know bigger sisters are allowed to wallop younger brothers. You’re the only one who’ll get nipped, buddy. Now hand over my nightgown.”

“No!”

The overgrown wulf pup backed away, tail wagging like a metronome gone mad. With a last wriggle, he gathered his haunches under him and leaped over her head, landing in a graceful sprawl on the other side of the couch.

“Chase me, ’Drea! Come chase me!”

Almost as graceful, she jumped the long sofa, one hand propelling her over in a high arc. At a dead run, she sprinted down the hall after her brother, determined to bring his playtime to an end. “I’m taking the newspaper to you when I catch you, mutt!”

“Better not!”

“I better will!” She imbued her words with every ounce of authority she could garner, knowing Andrew wouldn’t respond to anything else. Her brother was one stubborn puppy. She used her worse threat. “I’ll tell Chase on you. He warned you about picking on me.”

The pup skidded to stop, rear legs collapsing as he rolled up to her and opened his jaws, releasing her nightgown. It fell to the floor and puddled in a damp, slobbered mess.

“Look what you’ve done.” Andrea bent and picked up the thing, held it out so he could see the bite marks his fangs had made. “Now I have to rewash this, not to mention sewing it up.”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t tell Chase.” Drew whimpered, placing his paws on her thighs and licking the hand she lowered to ruffle his fur.

“I’ll let you live this time, but you have to promise to let me get my chores done.”

“I’ll go run in the backyard.”

That sounded like a plan to Andrea. “Stay there until Mama comes home.”

With a sigh, she went back to the laundry room and started another load of whites, tossing her nightgown in on top of her socks and undies. Retrieving the basket of clothes she’d pulled out of the dryer, she headed for her bedroom.

Once there, she locked her door, not trusting Drew to stick to his promise. She didn’t want any more interruptions.

Folding and sorting the last of her weekly laundry, she came up one short in the panty category. They were her favorite pair. Andrea frowned and looked around, tossing clothes and other items in search of her favorite pair of undies. She even stepped into the hall and retraced her steps from the laundry room, thinking she must have dropped a pair, until she recalled where that particular pair was. If she and Hunter had calculated correctly, that pair of panties was being delivered to her unsuspecting fiancé right about now.

The thought sent a spike of excitement hurtling to her core. Her vagina pulsed, releasing a bubble of cream, and Andi squirmed as her panties grew damp. Feeling deliciously wicked, she returned to her room and again flipped the lock. She tried to keep the smile off her face as she resumed her chore, humming under her breath. Her hands mechanically moved without input from her brain. She wondered how Chase was enjoying her Valentine’s Day present.

Four months ago, she’d discovered what Uncle Hunter had been doing for almost three years. When she’d caught her little cousin Blair filching her undies from the bathroom clothes hamper, and he claimed his daddy had put him up to it, she hadn’t believed him. Determined to get to the truth, she’d frog-marched the four-year-old out to the car where Hunter waited for him.

Andrea had practically curled up in embarrassment when she’d confronted her uncle only to have him matter-of-factly admit exactly how he’d used her personal items to enact an inventive revenge on his cousin Chase for trying to steal his mate.

It hadn’t taken her long to get over her embarrassment when he’d gone on to explain the beauty of Chase’s monthly reaction. Hungry for some revenge of her own after the way Chase crashed her prom and ruined her night back in June, she gave her consent for Hunter to continue tormenting Chase and agreed to supply the pairs of panties as needed. She’d done so from then on, but since then, she’d finally had it with the status quo. A few weeks ago, she’d changed the game.

Ordinarily, the panties were simply ones she’d worn and tossed in the laundry, but last time she’d made sure the panties were especially fragrant before bagging and handing them over, with a request that he make sure they were delivered as close to Valentine’s Day as possible.

Uncle Hunter had taken one whiff, paled, and then thrown his head back and howled in laughter. Gingerly taking the wrapped package in gloved hands, he’d shaken his head at her, a look of awe in his eyes. “Little bitch, this is truly evil.” He held up the bag. “By these, can I assume the wulf side of your genetics has finally kicked in?”

No denying that. Andrea shrugged, smiled. “All I know is my body has done some majorly weird stuff lately.”

“Tell me about it, no really. I don’t want specifics, but I take it Chase used his time to advantage on prom night,” Hunter teased. Laughing, his hazel gaze swept down and back up, the jocular twinkle softening her initial irritation.

Uncle Hunter wasn’t a sleaze. He wasn’t looking at her like that. He was just taking note of the obvious differences her body had gone through in the last thirty days, which, she had to admit, were spectacular.

“Well, as you can see, I’m still slim, still short, but my silhouette has turned into an hourglass.” Andrea ran her hands over her new curves. “My breasts are plumper, waist nipped, and my hips curved, but this new body comes with a whole new level of emotions and needs.”

Hunter patted her shoulder. “Don’t forget the stuff Aunt Sophie warned you about. You need to be careful handling some of the changes you’re undergoing. I don’t mean to be an alarmist, but you’ve developed a lot faster than breeds usually do.”

“I know, unc, I know.”

Papa Fort’s dam had explained that it took several exchanges of DNA for a breed to become active. It differed, but most required three -- one of them a major one like having a wulf come in them or drinking wulf sperm -- to jump-start the reverse-aging process. Unlike full humans, breeds reached the height of their sexual maturity earlier and remained that way longer.

Andrea was skating eighteen now, but she’d been sexually mature, an adult by wulf standards, for over three years. She’d always been emotionally older than her years thanks to the life her birth father had subjected her to, dragging her with him all over Europe in pursuit of his philandering same-sex partner.

Having to wait for her was doubly hard on Chase because they had a true-bond mating. Wulves were highly sexed, and he’d been celibate since the day they met. He knew she was physically and mentally mature enough, but the Americas Pack leader, Uncle Hunter’s father, Lachlann, had determined that Chase -- a wealthy, successful Atlanta businessman with international connections -- was too well-known, his profile too highly visible to human oversight, for their mating to be consummated before her eighteenth birthday. Too many would consider her jailbait. The wulves didn’t want that sort of scrutiny leveled on them.

A wry smile stretching her lips wide, Andrea finished folding her clothes and moved on to changing her bed. Chase wasn’t the only one who’d railed against that ruling. As she stripped the sheets and blankets, she tried to feel guilty for her recent actions but couldn’t bring herself to embrace the negative emotion. It was too titillating to think of Chase needing and wanting her as much as she needed him. Besides, all it took to reignite her righteous indignation was to remember what Chase had done to her on prom night, hauling her away from the event like she was a naughty child in need of punishment. His insulting jealousy had cheated her out of enjoying one of the major highlights capping her educational journey.

Tossing the soiled sheets to the floor and setting the blankets on the armchair by her window, she grabbed the pillows and pulled the cases off, dropping them on top of the growing pile of discarded linen. She wondered what Chase was doing, if he’d gotten her present yet, and what his response had been. Much as she kept telling herself he deserved what she’d done, she couldn’t help being assailed by doubts.

Had she gone too far? If what she knew about wulves was correct, she’d sent a fifty-megaton bomb hurtling straight for Chase’s heart. Knowing the sensitivity they had for scent, she’d masturbated in those panties while daydreaming about Chase fucking her. By the time she’d finished, they were sopping wet with her juices. Weak and wobbly from the strong orgasms, Andrea had immediately sealed them in a baggie to keep the wetness potent and fragrant. Later, she’d delivered them to Uncle Hunter. Those panties had been her formal announcement that she was tired of being treated as a child, tired of waiting for Chase to see her as a grown, sexually ripe woman. If he could call her a child after getting a whiff of those undies, she’d sprinkle sugar on them and eat them.

The new sheet billowed as she shook it out over the bed, settling like gently drifting snow over the twin mattress. She stretched the curved edges over the corners of the mattress and then sank down to sit on the side of the bed. Leaning over, Andrea reached for the framed picture she kept on the bedside table. It was of her and Chase, taken at her mother’s wedding. Running a forefinger down the glass protecting his image, she sighed, instantly growing warm and wet between her thighs. It happened whenever she thought of him, whenever she saw him…whenever, every time.

Her fiancé looked devastatingly handsome in a black tux, his blond hair shining against a backdrop of bright winter sunlight. Tall and muscular, Chase made Brad Pitt look like a younger brother trying to dress up in his older brother’s clothes. He was suave and debonair, not a hair out of place, standing at ease in the vestibule of the church, hazel eyes filled with lazy indulgence.

In unflattering contrast, she stood tucked under his broad shoulder, an immature reed, a slim wand in a willowy, buttery cream gown, wide brown eyes staring into the camera lens, captured forever in that moment just following their first kiss. The stark expression of hunger plainly visible on her young face reminded her of how much more she’d craved from him even then, before there’d been enough exchanges to kick her metabolism into wulfish speed.

Andrea had been almost fifteen when Chase had set his mating mark at her throat. She’d always known she was different, known she’d never been totally human. But from that point, her DNA began shifting toward the wulf biology norm. Other than the major ones like starting her menses, the changes were easy to hide from her human schoolmates. It was frighteningly easy playing the high school student with nothing on her mind but the latest movie, the hottest boy-band hunk, and the next final.

It had helped being able to escape into childhood sometimes. Mired in human law, it didn’t pay to act her actual emotional age. It would have freaked her teachers and her schoolmates. Luckily, Andi had skipped two grades, so her classmates were two years older than she but didn’t know it. They didn’t expect her to act like the other giddy fifteen-going-on-sixteen-year-olds; they expected her to act their age: seventeen or older. By the time a few years had passed, her friends had come to accept her maturity as the status quo. Josh and Shelley -- her two best friends -- had stumbled on the truth in the tenth grade. They’d been visiting when Andrew underwent his first morph from toddler to pup. With them, she could relax and just be herself, which was often a mishmash of late-teens and sexily mature woman.

She ran her fingers lovingly over Chase’s image, hands gentle on the glass, and wished she were touching warm, resilient flesh instead of the cold, lifeless barrier. She missed him, missed the excitement he stirred whenever he was around, despite the way he always aggravated her. They didn’t get to interact physically very often, but when they were together, they usually ended up fighting. Aunt Mel and Mama disagreed over the whys and wherefores of that. Mama said it was because Chase was always starting something. Aunt Mel, though, claimed their fighting was the outcome of all the sexual tension arcing between them. Andrea knew Aunt Mel was more correct. The sexual attraction between her and Chase was off the track. But there was another side to that illicit pull. There were times when she struggled with a heart-freezing fury. Andrea still had unresolved anger at Chase for his actions three years ago. Anger that hadn’t melted away after she’d swung that cast-iron skillet.

She wasn’t feeling that anger now, though. Now, she was feeling heated and damp. A huge sigh gusted out of her as she set the picture back down on the table. Her hands trembled as she slowly and methodically freed the buttons of her shirt, easing the flaps apart. Her bra parted with the flick of the single front catch, and a simple flip of the hand sent it soaring to the end of the bed. Breaths coming short and fast, Andrea swung her legs up until she was half lying, half sitting, and then scooted farther up, grabbing and punching on her pillows until her lower back and shoulders were supported comfortably.

Leaning her head against the headboard, Andrea sucked in a deep breath and slowly relaxed her entire body. After a moment, she drew her knees up and eased her legs apart. Licking dry lips, she ran her hands down her torso, slowly drifting over her aching body. A hot little lick of heat flared to life under her fingertips, firing her blood, heating the skin along the path of her trembling fingers. She shuddered when she reached the V of her thighs and touched her mound through her passion-drenched panties. Her knees went weak as pleasure slammed into her, stealing her breath and jump-starting her racing pulse.

The activation of her alien biology had changed her. Since prom night, though, she struggled with needs and emotions she’d never before encountered. Being a breed female meant having a body engineered for sex -- wild, raunchy sex with a larger-than-life, stronger-than-human male wulf. Her body wasn’t built just to withstand, it was wired to enjoy. It seemed all breeds had a touch of the submissive in them, which was a good thing, considering not only Grand-dam Sophie, but her own mom, along with Aunt Melody, had warned her that most wulves were inherently dominant. She wasn’t feeling very submissive at the moment. If she had Chase here before her, she’d rip his clothes off and attack him, take what she wanted.

According to Pack law, Andrea was mature enough to mate the moment she became fertile. Thanks to the sperm cocktail burned into her neck, mentally and physically, she was a sexually mature -- though inexperienced -- woman, considered a child only by human chronology. That was why the cruelest cut Chase could have dealt her was treating her like a child the night of the prom. He knew darn good and well she was a woman. It was one thing to cater to human law when surrounded by them, but there’d been no humans in her bedroom. He’d chosen to reject her for other reasons. Probably, she figured, his farty way of punishing her for going to the prom with Josh. Screw him.

That night in the back of the limo, and later in this selfsame bed, he’d begun showing her what hands and mouths and tongues could do. And then he’d stopped. He’d kissed her, oh God, the kisses he’d given her…deep, wild, intense, and so hot he’d set her on fire. His tongue in her mouth, his saliva mingling with hers, his taste overwhelming her, drowning her in passion and a lust so strong she’d almost lost her mind! She’d certainly lost all inhibitions.

Chase had tutored her in the dark pleasure her body was capable of, but when she’d begged and pleaded, body writhing in need, for him to finish his lessons and claim her completely, he’d pulled away and left her aching and hurting, hungry for something she’d never known.

Frustrated, furious, and downright horny, Andrea had lain in her virginal bed, curled in a fetal ball of agony, need burning in her, scorching her so completely her body had wept moisture from her pores, every pore aching, nerves so abraded pain danced along her skin. The slightest touch would have brought her agonized relief, but he hadn’t stayed to grant her that release.

Instead, she’d gathered her limbs under her, moving like an old, arthritic crone -- slowly and carefully. Determined to show him she didn’t need him. Unused to masturbating, she’d fumbled at it, not sure she was going about it correctly. Thing was, she’d been so hot, so ready to explode…it hadn’t taken much to send her caroming over a jagged precipice. A few slight pinches of her nipples, a couple of tentative swipes over her clit, and that was all she wrote.

A long, rolling shudder rippled over her as she licked her lips, remembering. God, it had felt delicious…like a strong electric current sizzling down every neuron in her body. Her limbs had flown out of control and she’d jerked so hard, cried out so loudly she’d feared Papa Fort -- with his better-than-human hearing -- would twig to what she was doing. Andrea had tried to muffle her cries in her pillow, but even the threat of exposure hadn’t been enough to make her stop. She’d sobbed through the last of the orgasm, riding a pleasure so intense she’d bowed her body into a tense arc, balanced on shoulders and heels.

Hours, years, an eternity later, she’d come out of it gasping, dazed, and darn sure that first time wouldn’t be her last. Several days later, after a whispered conversation with Shelley, Andrea acquired a brand-new toy. A slim, smooth vibrator nestled in a brightly colored case with the words Plenty Good inscribed on it. Shortly after, she was coming at the touch of a button.

Andrea shifted on the mattress, much as she loved the sensations she coaxed from her body, they fell short of the level she needed, never ever approached the explosive edge she’d skated near with Chase’s hands on her. Andrea needed something more…needed someone to heighten those lush feelings. She hungered to have Chase’s hands on her again, driving her up that glittering slope he’d almost pushed her over before. She wanted Chase’s lips back at her ears, his breath brushing her lobe as his gruff voice egged her on. She could almost hear him whispering how one day soon he would lay her down, stretch her legs wide as he licked and sucked her pussy before he flipped her to hands and knees and fucked her raw.

The remembered promises had her trembling. Lust slipping the leash of her patience, her shaking fingers fumbled with the snap at her waist, ripped her jeans open to shove her hands down to her mound. Once there, Andrea paused, panting. Her heart thundered in her chest as she lay still, fingers just resting atop her damp curls, content to let the bright edge of excitement darken around the corners. She didn’t want this to end too soon, and it would if she wasn’t careful. She refused to lose control like she did the last time.

Propping the picture where she could see it, Andrea licked her lips and then licked the forefinger of her left hand. She dabbed the moisture on her nipples, lightly ringing them with her fingertip. The tips stiffened up diamond hard, tightened until they were beyond tender. The slightest touch had her shuddering, gushing, her nipples seemingly connected directly to her vagina.

She stared at Chase’s pictured lips, visually followed the curve of that full top lip. His mouth was slightly open -- he’d been smiling smugly, aware he’d overwhelmed her with his experience and age. He’d liked her looking up at him…looking up to him. His hazel eyes had twinkled down at her, taunted her with the sexually edged teasing that had thrown her off balance back then.

Andrea blew her breath out long and slow, trying to release some of the tension building in her chest and down lower in her belly. Her thighs, wet from her juices, slipped and slid against each other slickly as she fidgeted under the lash of sensations whipping through her. Oh Goddess, she was so hot. She could smell her arousal every time she opened her legs; the scent rose in waves, made her hornier. Chase said she smelled like cinnamon-flavored oranges. It didn’t smell like that to her, but she was glad he thought so. She’d never told him her favorite breakfast was cinnamon toast and fresh oranges. She wondered if she tasted like she smelled.

Heat flooded her cheeks as she debated tasting herself to find out. It was something Chase had whispered he was dying to do, taste her and have her taste him. He’d done a lot of whispering on prom night, with two watchful wulves on guard in the kitchen down the hall. Andrea sent one finger swirling between her sopping lips, gathering the slippery spill on her fingertip. She brought the finger up and, not pausing to think, dabbed at it with her tongue.

Slightly salty, fairly bland, it wasn’t the taste as much as the dark carnality of licking her own cum. Just thinking about it being Chase’s tongue lapping her finger had her panting, her breasts swelling, nipples drawing painfully tight. The muscles in her stomach danced in jittery response. Her intimate muscles contorted and clenched, milking air as a flood of fluid drenched her mound.

God, that was hot. Andrea flopped on her back, winded from fighting off her orgasm. Man, she’d almost come that time. She waited until the shakes receded, then rolled to her side and reached under the mattress for her storage box. Making quick work of it, she removed her vibrator and twisted the base, checking the batteries. The last time she’d used it, the batteries had died at a crucial moment. This time she was ready. She’d bought Eveready. The charge showed green and she went lax, a taunting smile curving her lips. “This one’s for you, Chase. I wish you could see what you’re missing.”

Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob to the next setting and touched her left nipple. The vibrations scored her flesh, sizzled down her bloodstream to electrify her womb. Grimacing, she squeezed her eyes shut and arched her hips, pressed the vibrator firmly against the up thrust button.

“Yesssssssss!” she hissed, moving the slim wand to the next breast, circling the nub before moving in to dance the tool over the throbbing tip of her nipple. Moisture poured from her, pooling in her panties and seeping through to the coarse material of her pants.

Thank goodness she was wearing her jeans or she’d have to change the bedding again. Andrea tossed her head from side to side, racing toward a turbulent edge as her hands smoothed down her body, left hand trailing the vibrator. It hummed along her skin, teasing nerves and sensitizing her flesh. Her breathing grew harsh, pulse pounded as sweat broke out to dapple her face and shoulders.

Almost sobbing, she widened her legs, worked the slim wand under the edge of her panties. The hum tickled until the feeling changed from funny to sensuous. Taking a deep steadying breath, she plunged the vibrator into her tight slit, gasping as her muscles clenched on it, squeezed down.

“Ah!” The cry escaped as Andrea tightened her buttocks, reflexively fighting the seductive pull toward orgasm. The longer she could stave off going under, the harder and further the final conflagration would fling her into ecstasy.

Chapter Four

Chase

 

He could barely smell the courier over the snout-curling billows of the package she was carrying, but it was enough to know she was pure, unadulterated human. As such, he had to maintain control, keep a lid on his wulf until she was long gone. Breaking the rule of concealment was punishable by death.

Chase bit back a howl as he rocked back in his chair. Beneath the expansive surface of his desk, his claws ripped and tore, destroying his slacks as he desperately fought to release his cock. It was on fire, bent almost in half by the restrictive cloth stretched taut over his crotch. Between the guttural moans keening through drawn-back lips, he cursed a blue streak as he finally got the swollen thing freed and straightened out.

The sheer relief of escaping constriction brought tears to his eyes, made him pant openmouthed as he fought to hold back the change, barely clinging to the skin form that allowed him to pass unnoticed among the fragile, ignorantly blind humans.

A light knock sounded at the outer door of his private office, and his head snapped up, eyes glowing with power. He had to remind himself again that the fucking mail carrier was human. He let go of his cock to get his sunglasses, wanting to howl at the fierce ache racing up and down the hard, distended length. Chase lowered his head and trained his eyes on the surface of his desk, making sure she received no inkling of his impending change.

A curtly growled, “Come!” was all he could manage through a throat nearly closed off by the lust rolling over him in increasingly powerful waves.

The postal worker stuck her head around the door and lobbed a cheery smile at him. “Hello?”

She looked nothing like Andrea, thank the Moon. His mind was already focused on her. He didn’t need the complication of visual temptation too. Tall and thin, she wore a light blue shirt tucked into dark blue shorts, a concession to the Atlanta heat. Sensible black Nike walking shoes covered her feet. The woman stepped farther into the room, the small cushioned envelope in one hand, her electronic stylus tablet in the other. “I have a package for Chase McCallum.”

“I’m Chase.”

She spun the blocky pad around until it faced him. “Sign here, Mr. McCallum.”

Chase was dying. His gut muscles clenched, spasmed. His cock jerked, rising so high it brushed the underside of the desk. Stiffly en Pointe, the damn thing strained toward the package from hell that promised heaven. His left hand shook as he scribbled his name, his right was curled around his bucking cock.

“Is your company going through hard times like everyone else, sir?”

He didn’t look up. Couldn’t. His eyes were still out of his control, burning hot. Chase could just see the woman panicking if she got a good look at him and detected his otherworldliness. He had no idea what the hell the woman was talking about, anyway. Nor did he care. He just wanted her gone. “What?”

She glanced around, swabbing her lower lip with a quick, nervous tongue swipe. “Didn’t more people work here? Lately, there’s never anyone around but this tall black dude. Braids. Built. Buff…know who I mean?”

Taylor? This human was interested in Taylor? Chase bit back a strained laugh. That wulf had so little time for humans he could almost qualify as a Separatist. To his knowledge, Taylor didn’t even use humans as fuck snacks. His second would have a good laugh when Chase told him about the little postal worker’s crush. “No. Go.”

Her body stiffened. At least, what he could see of it. “Rude much?”

“Yes. Don’t take it personally, just take it…and go.” He risked looking up. The humor in the situation had given him enough control to normalize his eyes. She was a scrawny thing with barely enough curves to be designated female. No way would Taylor dip his wick in that. “I’ve signed for the package. Why are you still here? I’m busy…” jerking my meat undercover, he finished mentally.

The woman pursed her lips, probably biting back the insults she’d like to hurl if she hadn’t been on duty and an official employee of the United States Postal Service. Chase sympathized, but she still wasn’t moving fast enough to suit him. His temper snapped. “Give me my package and get out of my office. Now!”

Tossing the bag on the desk, the carrier lifted her head and glared down her nose at him. “This is the last time I’ll deliver anything to this office! I’ve never met anyone so rude in my life.” She stomped over to the door. “By the way, Happy Valentine’s Day, you jerk! I pity your girlfriend having to deal with your sorry hide. Or have you browbeaten her into submission?”

“If only I could…” His eyes fell on the package, and the corner of his mouth curled up in derision. “Believe me, she handles me just fine.” Chase waved her off. “Good-bye.”

Eyes clenched tight against an upsurge of lust, Chase listened to her feet beat a fast retreat out his office and down the deserted hall to the elevator bays. What seemed long minutes later, the pneumatic doors whispered closed, sealing off her brackish human smell. He didn’t waste any time coming to his feet to throw off his restricting clothing. Pants, shirt, and sundries fell away like magic until nothing but air touched his sensitive skin.

Unclenching his jaw and easing his eyes open, staring at the innocuous padded envelope, Chase found it ludicrous that so small a thing could wreak such havoc, yet there it lay -- his nemesis.

Chase groaned, miserable and aching, wanting his female, not the fading smell of her recent arousal. Claws flashed, the package fell apart, and the baggie containing her panties fell onto his palm. The aroma was rich and heady, dark and loamy, carrying his mate’s genetic signature. He breathed deeply, reveling in the intoxicating scent shooting straight to his head by way of his balls. Chase’s cock twitched, leaking precum as Andrea’s scent inundated his senses.

Secure in the knowledge he was alone, Chase allowed his body to relax into battle form. Fur sprouted, body bulked, and claws and fangs grew. At the base of his spine, his vestigial tail jutted above the deep crease of his ass. His cock grew to immense size, huge and swollen stiff. Hand wrapping around the thick barrel, Chase snarled at the agony seizing him as he fisted his cock, pumping up and down with a firm hand-over-hand stroking action.

Mother Moon, he wanted Andrea…wanted her naked and needy, hungry for him, dripping wet and wide-open for his cock. Her panties said it all -- spoke eloquently of her ripeness and readiness. The cloth reeked of the “fuck me” pheromones she’d exuded, strong enough to knock a bull elephant on its knees, let alone a helpless wulf. And he was on his knees, though she didn’t know it.

Chase sank down, panties ripped out of their protective plastic and pressed to his face, the heady scent strong in his nostrils. He could almost convince himself they still held a trace of dampness. His tongue lapped at the tiny crotch, wetting the cloth, reconstituting the moisture he craved.

Tangy.

Sweet.

Addictive.

Chase couldn’t wait to sip her cream fresh from the source of her sweet little cunt. He would soon. By the Moon’s phases, this would be the last delivery of its kind. There’d be no more panty expresses. This time next month, he’d have the real thing pressed to his face.

Bending to the urge of his baser self, he sank onto his chair and wrapped the plain cotton undies around his cock. Unlocking the bottom right drawer, he drew out the dog-eared picture he kept near him at all times. The grainy image was one he’d had a guard take of Andrea unawares. She was in her backyard, playing with the pup, Drew, laughing up at him as she dangled him chest high. Her eyes were alight with love. A smile stretched her mouth wide, imbued her face with life and vitality.

One day soon she’d look at him like that, he swore, jealous of the affection she showered on the young wulf, greedy for her, starving for her attention. Chase stroked his cock with one hand as he traced the features of his mate with the other, pumping fast now. Eyes golden with change, mouth full of fangs, he dug his claws into his meat, desperate to come.

Groaning ferally, Chase ran the ball of his thumb up and over the broad, blunt head of his cock, smearing the precum down the rigid shaft. His hand moved faster, fist squeezed tighter. Eyes glued on Andi’s innocent face, he recalled the breathy moans and sighs he’d drawn from her the night he’d whisked her away in the back of his limo. She’d begged him to take her, and he’d wanted to. He’d never cursed Hunter and Lachlann so much as in those moments he’d hung fraught with lust over his willing bride-to-be. His cock had been so hard, his balls so heavy with seed, the pain had almost sent him out of his head.

The memories were enough to ignite the agonizing need all over again. The lust-edged pain jolted through him, brought him closer to climax. Feet planted firmly on the floor, his body stiffened as his balls went taut. Sperm boiled up his shaft and spewed from the fat glans. Chase threw back his head and howled. The cry of a lonely animal, it was plaintive and poignant; the wulf calling for his mate as his life force spilled over his hands and splashed against his lower belly. “My Andi… Oh, fuck yeah! Yeah!”

Andrea’s sweet scent welled up, mixed with his spunk as his seed soaked into the absorbent panties, releasing the stored remnant of her cum. His belly cramped as hunger attacked him anew. Moaning, Chase bowed his head, struggled to catch his breath. His chest heaved as he brought himself under control. Gradually, his battle form melded into something softer. Fur and fangs receded, leaving the golden locks and hazel eyes of his skin form.

Ha. As if he could regulate his reactions where she was concerned, he mocked himself, staggering to his feet to gather up his tossed clothing. Breathing eased, he sat at the desk, hands shakily restoring a measure of order to his disordered clothing. He couldn’t do this anymore.

Chase dropped a kiss on the pictured lips, recalling the soft pliancy of Andrea’s real lips. Moonshine, she was sweet and tart, spicy as hell, with lips plump and juicy, as lush as the virginal pussy he’d smelled up close but never gotten a peek at.

Chase gripped his balls, rolling the sacs as his thoughts turned carnal. He’d obeyed the strictures lain down by his Alpha, though it practically killed him. Three long years he’d waited to claim his mate, never easing his need within her delectable pussy. No one could know how hard it had been for him. Even he didn’t know how he’d made it through the hellish time, but by the stars, the years of his penance were over and it was time he took control of his life…starting with a certain young breed named Andrea.

He reached for the phone.

Chapter Five

Andrea

 

She sobbed, heart hurting, body cramping with need. No amount of self-pleasure could truly satisfy. Andrea wrapped her arms about her trembling body, shaking like a person going through withdrawal. The description wasn’t too far-off. Chase was like a drug and she was addicted to him, needed him to live. He’d started something and, instead of finishing it, had left her hanging stretched over a divide she couldn’t cross alone.

Andrea couldn’t wait for her wedding night. As the days passed, her sexual needs flared higher and higher. Since prom night she’d made do, touching herself when what she really wanted was Chase’s hands on her, his body riding hers, his mouth smothering her cries as she screamed his name while coming.

Uncle Hunter had shared that Chase jacked off to her panties while looking at the old photo she’d given him three years ago. That’s when the naughty idea had occurred to her.

Chase had made her burn for him, made her need him with a desperation she couldn’t begin to articulate. Andrea decided to return the favor. Taking a leaf from his book and using his picture to focus her lust, she’d masturbated, sopping up her spilled juices with a pair of soft cotton panties.

Andrea sighed, recalling how it had felt, burying her fingers in the tight opening of her vagina, pushing in and out while she’d thumbed a nipple with the other hand. She’d lost coordination at the end, pelvis snapping up to meet the hand sunk between her thighs.

Groaning helplessly now, she discarded the vibrator to slide her hands down, rubbing between her thighs and circling her clit. Pressing the pad of her middle finger against the slick, naked bundle of nerves, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, riding the edge of pleasure. Her breath came in openmouthed pants, short and choppy. Her pulse pounded wildly, chest rising and falling, breasts quivering as she struggled for air.

“Heaven above, Chase, I need you!” Her body jackknifed as her fingers flew between her legs, stirring a hot, buzzing friction that fired her clit and the dripping flesh of her virginal channel. Continuous moans poured from her as she whimpered, unsure of what the sensations blasting her apart were. The waves crashing in her hot sex were too intense to correspond to so plebian a description as pain or pleasure. The raw, powerful storm swept her up and flung her headlong into a blinding wall, shattering her body and senses. Her body and spirit took flight. All her senses shut down, giving way to the conflagration consuming her. She burned white-hot, her mind replaying visions of Chase, images of the brawny wulf jacking her orgasm higher and higher.

The golden glow of his eyes as he stared down at her, his hand splayed across her naked breasts. The white tip of a fang, exposed as he panted openmouthed after lifting his lips from hers. The dense fur coating his shoulders and down his back, furring his chest and abdomen. The silky feel of the nap of midchange soft against her breasts and belly…that cute but sexy vestige of a tail he sported in battle form.

Her wulf: powerful, primal. Chase.

“Chase! Chase!” Sobbing, moaning, she panted his name with the last of her breath. Offering up mind, heart, and body, a willing sacrifice to Chase McCallum, she drowned and died and was reborn again and again.

“Oh…yes, oh Chase, yes, yes, yesssssssss!” Andrea screamed out her completion, body curling into it, riding the surging climax with toes curled so tight her legs cramped.

Distantly, she heard the rattling of her bedroom door.

“Andrea! Mija, are you all right?”

Crap!

Andrea snapped upright, frantically looking left to right, hand clenched at her side. Eyes locking on her door, she waited to see if it would open. It better not. She’d told her mother many times to respect her privacy.

“Rosa, come away from her door. Leave her alone.”

Andrea slumped in relief. Thank God Papa Fort was there. He’d save them all some embarrassment by getting her mom redirected.

“But Fort, I heard her crying out --”

“Trust me, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with our girl. If you want to worry about someone, worry about me. I haven’t fucked you since breakfast. I’m hungry.”

“Por Dios! You are insatiable!”

“What do you expect? This den is flooded with breed fuck-me pheromones.”

“Oh! That’s what she was doing!”

“I’m just glad I’m mated. Those poor guards are going through hell, believe me. I remember when Aunt Melody was activated but not claimed. I thought I’d go mad.”

“And now you just go mad in me!”

Papa Fort must have done something because her mother giggled. “Stop that! Drew…”

“Is in the backyard and Andi is occupied playing pocket pool.”

“Fort!”

“What? I’m supposed to pretend I don’t know she’s blowing the foam off her mug of beer.”

“You’re her father. You’re not supposed to notice things like that.”

“Honey, I’m a wulf. Things like that don’t escape me. Andi’s grown and a month away from being married. I think she can take care of herself without you calling attention to her actions. Concentrate on me.”

Her mother sighed. The soft, wet sounds of openmouthed kisses followed.

Hot-faced, Andrea flung an arm over her head, listening to her parents’ voices fade as they made their way to their bedroom at the far end of the hall. She wanted to sink through the bed into the floor. How embarrassing and juvenile being caught masturbating by her mom and dad. Even if she hadn’t been caught in the act, Papa Fort was a wulf, with an acute sense of smell. He could sniff out every time she got horny, which so totally sucked. She knew she was cursed when the phone rang and it was Chase’s distinctive jingle.

Chapter Six

Chase

 

“H-hello?”

The tentative, softly spoken query had his quasi-flaccid cock back on the rise and his voice gruff with renewed arousal.

“I know what you did.”

“Chase?” Her startled gasp sounded loudly over the phone.

“Yes, of course Chase. Your celibate mate.”

“Um…okaaaay. So, why are you calling? It’s not the day for your…ah…regular call.”

“You’ve been a naughty, naughty bitch, Andrea.”

He could almost see her tucking that swatch of thick black hair behind her left ear, a nervous habit she wasn’t aware she had. There was a strange note in her voice. He couldn’t determine what it was. Over the phone, without his sense of smell, it was difficult reading her reaction, but he knew her enough to know something was off.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I received your package today of all days. Should I say thank you for your Valentine’s Day gift?”

Silence.

She cleared her throat. “I…uh…I didn’t send you anything.”

“Tsk-tsk! Now, that simply isn’t true, Andrea.” Chase allowed his voice to drop to a gravelly croon. “Hunter may have mailed them, but the message you sent came through loud and clear.”

“My m-m-message?”

“Why so timid now, mate? You were so bold when you creamed your panties for me.”

Another gasp sounded in his ear. Her breathing grew loud enough he could hear the sobbing inhalations.

“Are you angry about that?”

Chase pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the receiver, disbelieving she could be so dense. She was missing the point, completely.

“Chase…?”

He repositioned the phone at his ear. “No, baby, I’m not angry, but you threw down a challenge, and I’m calling to inform you I’m picking it up.”

“Fine!” She blew out a loud sigh. “Uh…what does that mean?”

Chase laughed. Only she could do that to him. Make him relax even while she made him hornier than he’d ever been in his long life. “It means you’ve given notice you’re a mature breed, ready for mating. From now on, I’m going to treat you accordingly. So go lock your door, mate, and then come back and get comfortable.”

“Lock my door? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you interrupted while I’m giving you phone sex.”

“Giving me --”

“Lock the door, Andrea.” He hardened his voice, demanding obedience.

He heard her gulp. “Okay.”

A second later, she said, “It is locked.”

“Good. Now I want you to put the phone on speaker and set it on the table by the bed. Then I want you to stretch out on your bed, and tell me when you’re comfortable.”

Rustling and other vague noises came across loud and clear. Chase closed his eyes to visualize what he was hearing.

“Okay, the phone’s on speaker, and I’m on the bed.”

He could tell by the echoing sound of her voice, at once distant and hollow, that the phone was indeed on public mode. “Good. What color are the sheets?”

“What does that have to do with phone sex?”

He chuckled. Trust her to be ever practical. “This is for me, too, woman. I want to know every detail of your surroundings. It makes it easier for me to visualize you.”

“Whatever.” He heard the inherent shrug in her voice. “Today is laundry day. I just changed out the yellow stripes for the tan set.”

“A beautiful contrast to your glowing brown skin,” he recalled, seeing the soft cotton bedding in his mind’s eye. “Now, describe what you’re wearing to me.”

Silence reigned for a long period. He had to urge her a second time. “Andi…” And then it hit him. “Ooh, my naughty baby bitch… Are you naked? In the middle of the day?”

“No! Uh…I was taking a nap. I have my jeans and panties on.”

Is that what they’re calling it nowadays? Chase dropped a hand to his genitals and squeezed his filling balls. Somehow he knew she’d been masturbating, thinking of him. “Are you telling me your breasts are bare? Those pretty mounds are naked and free?”

“Ye-yeah.”

His acute wulf hearing picked up the liquid sound of her swallowing. “I bet your nipples are hard and pointing. Are they, Andi? Are they tight and full, sweetness?”

Her breath caught. “They are now…”

“Touch them for me.”

“Where and how?”

“Just lightly brush the sides. Softly stroke the skin under the fullest part, skirting the areolae and tips for now. Fight the temptation to greedily latch on to your nipples right away. Anticipation can be the sweetest torture. The next time I have you in my hands, I’m going to play with your breasts until you come.”

“I’m almost there now.”

“I wish I was there with you!” Chase couldn’t control the frustrated snarl. “I’d pinch your nipples, get them good and hard before taking them in my mouth and sucking on those tight little knots until your knees weakened.”

“You pinched them hard in the limo. You made them ache.”

“Yes, but I kissed them better, didn’t I?”

“You made me ache somewhere else, but you didn’t kiss that better.”

Oh, yeah, his baby bitch was regaining her boldness. Chase silently applauded her. Verbally, he egged her on. “Where else did you ache, Andi? Your belly, because I know I kissed your belly.”

“Lower…”

The gruff little growl in her voice was so hot it singed his cock hairs. Chase wanted to do some growling of his own. “Lower than your belly? Ah! Could it have been your knees?”

She giggled and it was the furthest sound from childlike he’d ever heard. It fired his blood like a Molotov cocktail.

“No, the spot was higher.”

“What on earth could be below your belly and higher than your knees?”

“You know…”

“I do?”

“Say it!”

“No, you say it.” Chase wasn’t having that. This was about breaking through her shyness with him.

When the line remained quiet, he prompted her to continue. “A mature woman wouldn’t have a problem naming one of her body parts.”

“Fine!” He heard her bristling through the phone line. “You didn’t kiss my vagina and make it stop aching.”

“I wish I were there now. I’d kiss your soft, swollen petals, part them to find the stiff little bundle of nerves, and suck it until I drew all the nectar out of you.”

“Oh God.”

“Yeah, just like that, baby.” Chase had to draw in a shaky breath. Damn, but his balls hurt. Next month couldn’t come too soon. “Let me make you sigh and moan, Andi. Take off your jeans.”

“They’re already off. So are my panties. And I switched the phone off speaker ’cause I don’t want Papa Fort hearing you. His ears are as good as yours.”

“Sweet star shine, are you trying to unman me?”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re a wulf, not a man.”

Chapter Seven

Andrea

 

Chase’s laughter rang in her ear.

She bristled. “What’s so funny?”

“Not a damned thing…and everything.” His satisfied tones made her squirm. “Sweetness, do you remember the list of rules I sent you?”

Did she remember? She hated those rules. Little did he know, she’d made up a set of her own in counterpoint. “Yeah.”

“Oh, so short. I take it you didn’t care for them?”

“No. I’m not your possession. You’re not gonna be my boss, just my mate.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. I’ll be your mate and your Alpha. And while I don’t want you as a possession, I will possess you. Totally. There isn’t an inch of your body I won’t claim, a crevice or curve I won’t conquer.”

“Do I get equal possession?”

Chase’s voice dropped so low the bass notes vibrated her clit. “Baby, you can lay claim to whatever you’re female enough to handle. Just know that whatever you dish, I’ll serve back. And the first order of our married life will be the spanking you’ve earned for tormenting me.”

Andrea’s knees went weak. Chase didn’t make idle threats. If he said he’d spank her, he meant it. “Why? I thought…you said you weren’t angry.”

He chuckled. “I’m not. But a female who’ll send cum-soaked panties to a wulf who’s been without any hint of pussy for over three years deserves punishment. I’ll enjoy spanking your ass red. I promise to kiss it better, though.”

“I won’t tolerate being abused like that. If you think --”

Chase cut across her protest. “If you think that’s abuse, you have a lot to learn. I’ll be glad to teach you.”

“What else would you call it?”

“Punishment of the sublimest sort, one I promise you’ll adore every moment of.”

“I’ll tell Uncle Hunter and Papa Fort.” Even while the words were coming out her mouth, Andrea knew she wouldn’t. Also, she wished she could take them back. How could she demand to be treated like an adult and at the first hint of turbulence threaten to run to her elders?

“By all means, do whatever you like. You’ll be shocked to learn that your mother and your aunt get their bottoms roasted frequently. I’m sure you’ve never heard them complaining, though; you just may have heard your mother’s satisfied cries.”

Lust blossomed in her gut, sluicing her panties. Indignation burned in her chest. She didn’t know which emotion was which with both of them mixing and swirling together until the blend became one totally unfamiliar. “What hogwash!”

“Andrea.”

She took note of his somber tone. “What?”

“You know I don’t lie to you. I never will. So listen carefully when I tell you this next. No wulf would abuse his true-bond mate. I will never abuse you. I will punish you, ravish you, and frequently fuck you to within an inch of your life. And you will receive a spanking for every panty express I’ve been tormented with from day one.”

Fear mixed with angry indignation. “That’s not fair! I only learned about it a few months ago!”

“Aha!” He sounded totally jazzed. A moment later he said, “You’ve known about it for months, but you sent only one scent bomb.”

She knew Chase. He was raising his eyebrow at her and trying to stare her down. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel him…metaphysically speaking.

“Andi, this was your retaliation for prom night, wasn’t it? Not for what happened in the limo, but for what didn’t happen in your bedroom.”

She’d always said he was smart. So was she, too smart to answer that loaded question totally truthfully.

She didn’t need to. Chase proved he could read between the lines. A playful growl rumbled in her ear before his voice stroked her. “Little bitch, you don’t know how hard it was for me not to touch your fragrant little cunt, not to even look at it. I deserve a fucking medal, but you want to nurse a grudge. Well, as soon as the ceremony is over, even before the reception, I’m going to render your ass beet red! And then I’m going to taste a fresh helping of the condensed cream you sent me. I can’t wait to see if your syrup is as sweet as this candy.”

She didn’t know why she said what she did. She opened her mouth and the words came of their own volition. “I don’t know why you assume it will be sweet. It didn’t taste sweet to me.”

The silence was thundering.

“How many times?”

“Huh?”

“How many times have you licked your fingers?”

“Just once. Just before you called.”

“While you were napping?”

Caught.

“I was napping.” Andi cleared her throat. “I fell asleep afterward.”

A long, low growl sent a fresh spat of moisture to her pussy. “Aw hell, look what you’ve done now!” Chase’s plaintive tones wafted over the wire.

“I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Sweetness, you just admitted you finger-fucked yourself and drank your own cream--” He broke off. “Were you looking at that picture of the two of us you keep by your bed?”

“I always do,” she admitted softly. “I can’t come if I’m not looking at you.”

“Aww…shit! Fuck!”

A pained howl sounded in her ear. Andi clenched the phone tighter. “Chase? What’s the matter?”

“Mother Moon, I’m coming!”

“Oh!”

Breathing heavily, he spoke right against the phone. “Yeah… Oh! You can’t tell a wulf something like that and not have him shooting off like fireworks! I’m making myself a note to make sure I fuck you on this desk. Lucky for you, the room’s soundproofed.”

She giggled. “I’m…uh…sorry?”

“Baby bitch, you’re not the least bit sorry.” His voice dropped to a menacing croon. “But you will be. For making me go into the next meeting with this raging hard-on, you’ve earned another punishment. I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“To spank me?”

Chase’s groaned affirmative came quickly. “Hell yes. Then afterward, to fuck you. Tell me you want me to fuck you, Andi.”

Andrea sat up on the side of her bed, legs squeezed together as she squirmed, pressing down on her clit. She nodded shyly, forgetting he couldn’t see her.

“Damn it, Andrea! Answer me.” His voice dropped as he cajoled, “Can’t you answer me, baby?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“Yes, you can answer me or…?”

“Yes, Chase, I want you to fuck me. I want to fuck you. I dream about it all the time.”

“Thank the Moon!” He sounded relieved. “Listen, Andi, I know you must blame me for a lot of things, but if I’m guilty, haven’t I hurt enough…haven’t we both hurt enough to satisfy?”

Swallowing down a sob, she whispered, “I didn’t know you were hurting, Chase, but I hurt all the time. I…touch myself, but it never comes close to how you touched me in the limo. I miss it. I miss you.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry as hell about that. Reaffirming my mark must have activated your breed DNA. It usually takes a while for the final exchange to take effect. No one knew you’d respond so quickly. I never meant for you to suffer like I was. I promise to make it up to you.”

“You’d better. I’m sick of being treated like a child. I’m more than ready to be treated like an adult, and above all, I’m tired of being a virgin!”

Chase’s sexy laughter had the muscles of her belly jumping. “My second order of business, I promise you!”

She caught her breath at the bolt of lightning lighting up her insides. “Dang, you’ve made me sopping wet.”

“That’s only fair since you constantly make me hard.”

Andrea sighed. “I’ll be glad when I can trade the dreams for the real thing. I wish you were here right now. I wish the month was already over.”

“All you have to do is tell me to come to you. I’ll order the jet readied and be there in hours.” He sounded serious.

“Sure you would, until you had to detour because Duke Janacek called from Drestovia, or another emergency reared its ugly head.”

Chase’s sigh sounded impatient. “I’m holding up a meeting right now to talk with you. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen. Fuck Lachlann and Hunter’s restrictions. I’ll come get you if you say the word.”

She loved hearing that. So many times she’d tried to get Chase to take notice of her, to at least share in her important events. He’d been reluctant, to say the least. Having him willing to go up against his Alphas for her dissipated a lot of her lingering anger. She smiled at the phone, though she knew he couldn’t see her expression.

“All I’ve ever wanted from you was acknowledgment that my wishes mattered. As presents go, this is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“You will be the most important person in my life. Never doubt that.”

“I’ll try not to.” Andrea shifted her hold on the phone, switching hands so she could wipe her sweaty one on the cool sheets. “What about you, Chase? What do you want?”

“I want you, my Andi… Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. I intend to have you too. Your pussy, your mouth, and everything else I’ve been craving for three agonizing years.”

“Are you talking about anal sex?”

“Of course I am. But I’m saving that for our first-year anniversary. So, are you going to give yourself to me, Andi?”

His words made her shiver. Still, she had enough control to tease him back. “Of course I am. I’m giving you my body, but you’ll have to earn my respect.”

Chase laughed. “Oh, I will, my dear. I intend to focus all my attention on you for the foreseeable future. Once I get you in my bed, it’ll take me at least a month before we come up for air. It’s one of the reasons I’m working so hard now. I want the desk cleared so I can spend uninterrupted time with you. It’s going to take a long time and a lot of fucking to get you comfortable taking my cock. I’m large, even by wulf standards. Hunter tells me Melody still wakes up sore some mornings.”

Whew! Her wulf was packing heat, and Andi was so hot her blood sizzled in her veins. She couldn’t speak to save her life. It was times like these, when Chase overwhelmed her with his bold, unselfconscious statements and his ease with all things carnal, that Andrea felt the imbalance in their relationship. Well, she’d just have to play catch-up in a big way.

“Andi?”

“Y-yes?”

“You’ve gone very quiet.”

Her soft laughter hid her sudden shyness. “You took my breath away.”

Chase sighed gustily. “I can’t wait to give it back to you, baby.”

Andi nibbled on her top lip, envisioning Chase leaning over her, framing her face as he slid his tongue past her lips slow and easy. He would breathe into her mouth, filling her with excitement and pleasure. Her pulse escalated. “Hhmmm…I can’t wait.”

“You and I both must wait,” Chase muttered, “but it’s only one more month.”

“One month and a day.”

“And a day…” he echoed, his masculine rumble liquefying her insides. “When that day is over, you’ll be limp and satiated” -- he laughed -- “and no longer a virgin.”

“Until then, I guess you want me to have Uncle Hunter cut out the…what did you call it? The panty express?”

“When I’m trying to jerk my damned cock off and I’m whining like a whipped pup, I’m all for them stopping, but as soon as I recover I change my mind. The only thing I hated was having other wulves handling your intimate apparel. For three years, I’ve gone from month to month in agony, anticipating the only bright spot in my life. I treasured the days the packages would arrive, knowing they were the only way I could be close to you. Hunter thought he was punishing me, and I took pains to make sure he continued to think so, because I didn’t want him to halt the deliveries.”

“So you didn’t see them as punishment?”

Another laugh came through the phone, this one low and sultry. “Sweetheart, they’ve been my lifeline. I love receiving your panties, handling the cloth redolent with your delicious scent, cloth that has lain against your softest, slickest skin. I’ve kept every single pair he’s sent. This last pair is going into a special commemorative case.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Baby, this was the best panty express ever, and not only because they arrived on Valentine’s Day. This panty express convinced me my mate was ready for me, totally capable of being my equal sexually.”

Andi’s right hand cupped her mound, the heel of her palm pressing down on the area in a pained attempt at stopping the throbbing of her empty vagina. “Please, Chase.” Her voice wobbled. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to have another pair of soaked panties to send to you.”

His deep chuckle grabbed hold and twisted up the muscles in her belly. “My sweet baby bitch, I hope I’ll always inspire you to create those kinds of packages, but know that by this time next month plus a day, I’ll be the one removing your panties to slide balls deep inside my mate’s hot, wet pussy. Until then, go answer the door. You have a delivery.”

Andrea squealed, the sexual woman giving way to the child who lurked in the heart of every female. “What did you send me?”

“Well, it’s not a pair of creamed panties, that’s certain.”

“Chaaase,” she whined. “Tell me!”

“No, and don’t pout. It’s just a little Valentine’s Day token.”

The doorbell rang, and Andrea raced to the closet and pulled out her robe. Throwing it on and quickly tying the sash, she snatched her door open and sprinted up the hall. Flinging open the front door, she waved away the guard trying to take possession of her gift. “It’s all right, Bender. I’m on the phone with Chase and he told me to come collect it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard handed the small package over and Andrea snatched it with a hurried “Thank you!” before slamming the door in his face. She rushed into her bedroom and plopped down on the bed.

Holding the phone in the crook of her shoulder, Andrea stripped the decorative paper off to reveal a jewelry box. Nestled in a bed of soft black foam was a baroque gold cuff. Four jewels -- a ruby, a sapphire, an emerald, and an amethyst -- gleamed on the sides, and the round face sported the same stones in smaller versions with a larger, multifaceted topaz centered in pride of place. The golden stone designated the Eastern-America Pack, ruled by Chase’s father, Rann, who held it under authority of Hunter’s father, Lachlann.

She didn’t open it, but from handling Aunt Melody’s cuff and pendant, Andrea knew the top opened to reveal a watch with a mother-of-pearl face. The lid was concave, made to hold a miniature photograph, and after their mating, one depicting her and Chase would grace that spot.

“It’s the Pack symbol!” The gleeful cry rang out as Andi threw herself backward onto her bed. “Chase, you sent me my Pack bracelet.”

“I did, my Alphine. I’ll place the necklace around your neck after we bond during the Pack mating ceremony as is traditional. Do you like it?”

“I more than like it; I love it,” she whispered, clasping the cuff around her wrist and holding her arm up to view it from all sides. And she did. More, she loved the message behind the gift, though the watch itself was beyond beautiful. The wife of an Alpha didn’t automatically command by right of marriage. Authority had to be granted by her mate and was only given if he felt her worthy and capable of ruling.

Tears threatened as Andrea rolled to her stomach and whispered into the phone, “Chase, do you mean it?”

His voice was solemn when he answered. “Andrea Montalvo McCallum, I have always found you to be a female wise beyond your years. Your insight, honesty, and loyalty will strengthen our Pack. You are more than worthy.”

She did cry then, happier than she’d ever thought she’d be at the start of this lonely Valentine’s Day. Chase had turned this holiday into a day she’d never forget.

“Don’t cry, my sweet baby bitch. I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am.” Andi swiped at her tears before going on. “You’ve made this the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

THE END



 

 

 

 

Camille Anthony

 

Camille Anthony, a sunny California transplant, is quick to say her fertile imagination and a love of romance fuels her writing, which she has been doing since grade school. Her favorite stories are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race, or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find and hold that one special someone. She likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot!

She loves to hear from her readers. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated. 

Visit Camille on the Web at www.camilleanthony.com or send an e-mail to her at camilleanthony@camilleanthony.com.