Big Bad Wolf Dad: A Fated Mate Romance Page 10

  “Off,” he commanded, unbuttoning her pants.

  Erika found herself obeying his command immediately, lifting her hips up off the couch so he could slide all her remaining clothing from her body in one smooth motion—including her socks. A giggle escaped her lips at that thought, but Harden simply arched an eyebrow, lifted the leg that wasn’t pressed against the couch, and lowered his mouth to her. Heat washed over her skin and she was suddenly lost. The surroundings blurred and all she could focus on was his tongue as it flicked out and across her with agonizing slowness.

  Erika held her right leg aloft, the left one hooked over the couch, Harden buried between them, one knee on the floor the other stretched out on the rest of the couch. It didn’t look comfortable, but she could never seem to find the words to ask him if they should switch positions. His tongue was warm and soft, and he knew exactly where to run it over her for maximum effect. Although he moved slowly, her climax came on quickly, rushing through her body in a matter of minutes.

  She curled up into a ball momentarily, lost in her own mind from the simple pleasures he’d been inflicting upon her. Brain sensors overloaded for the moment, she didn’t quite know what to do. The sight of him standing up and removing the rest of his clothing spurred her into action, however. Erika sat up and with a quick lick of her lips, grabbed his shaft and took him into her mouth.

  He groaned loudly, making her want to bite her lip. There was something in the way, however, so Erika was forced—“forced”—to content herself with taking just a bit more of it deep into her throat. He was long, with a solid but not intimidating girth to him. That was a relief, given what she knew of shifters. Big was fun to joke about, but sometimes it could be too much. For her anyway.

  “Okay, stop,” he growled shortly thereafter. “Or else I’m going to explode now.”

  Erika pulled herself free, licking her lips to clear off the excess saliva, rubbing it into his cock with her hand.

  “Sorry,” she said without meaning an ounce of it.

  Harden rolled his eyes. “Don’t be.” Then he positioned himself between her legs, the head of him pressed gently against her opening. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I want you,” she said. “I want you inside of me.”

  Her eyes rolled back into her head as he pushed inside of her, sliding an inch at a time between her walls, stretching her, filling her with perfect bliss. Pleasure rolled out through her body in waves with each miniature thrust of his hips. Erika gasped and thrust her hips at him, trying to capture more of him inside her, but he maintained his pace. By the time he finally buried himself completely, she had begun to ache for it.

  “Fuck me,” she hissed at him. “Fuck me!”

  Harden obliged. He withdrew entirely, until she could almost feel him fall out of her. At the last second, as she clamored for him to stop, he reversed and thrust his entire length into her at once. Erika sat up, eyes wide, mouth hanging open as he repeated the motion over and over again. Mind-numbing pleasure rushed out from between her legs, washing away any other thoughts. All she could focus on was the sight and sensation of his cock as it dipped into her over and over again.

  Moans turned to cries, and cries turned to screams of naked ecstasy as he fucked her thoroughly. At one point he flipped her over, one hand wrapping around her hair as the other spanked her just until her ass was tingling and slightly pink. The combination of that and being fucked sent her over the brink again, making her explode all over his cock.

  “You fuck me so good,” she said, chest heaving as she flipped onto her back once more, breasts flush with red from the workout.

  “Good,” was his only reply, his breath short from doing all the work.

  Time to change that, I think.

  She pushed him down until he was in a normal sitting position on the couch. Then she swung her right leg up and over him, settling down with her breasts in his face. Reaching behind her, she grabbed his cock and held it steady while she adjusted herself so that he could slide inside her. A tiny gasp came from her lips as he licked one of her nipples at the same time.

  “Now let’s see if I can return the favor,” she said in her best sexy, sultry voice, licking her lips, mouth open as she stared into his eyes. Tightness worked itself into his eyes as she moved her hips against him, grinding back and forth on his cock in a slow, sensual manner. She pressed her breasts into his face when she drew close, and ran her hands up her sides to play with them for him to see when she was away.

  He groaned and his eyes lost focus as she fucked him. His cock felt so good, and the way her clit was rubbing against him was making her begin to shudder.

  “I’m so close,” he whispered.

  “Me too,” she echoed. “I’m going to cum.”

  “I can’t—” He trailed off into a wordless groan.

  His cock swelled inside of her.

  She tightened around him, pushed over the edge by the sensation.

  “Erika!” he groaned, her name spilling from him.

  “Harden!” she echoed, swept up in the moment.

  His hips bucked under her as she started to shake.

  Warmth exploded into her.

  A scream rushed from her lips.

  “I’m cumming!” he roared.

  “Fuccccckkkkkk!” she cried out loudly.

  Together they crashed through their orgasms, the moment stretching out into eternity and back in an instant. She collapsed, nearly melting into him, utterly spent from the exertions and the constant climaxes. Every part of her was numb, an unfeeling heaven brought on by a sensory overload.

  Beneath her Harden’s chest rose and fell swiftly, bobbing her along with it. The weight of her didn’t seem to bother him, which was good because she didn’t know if she could move just yet. All the energy had fled from her body, leaving her weak and limp.

  But oh had it been worth it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Harden

  Sunday morning came too early for either of them. The light streamed through her bedroom window, located at the rear of the house. Neither of them had remembered to close it, and now they rose with the sun.

  Perhaps “rose” was too strong of a word. Slithered, maybe. Or stumbled. Pried themselves reluctantly. Protesting the entire way. Pick one, and it would be more accurate than rose. He fumbled blearily with the curtains until they came closed. Turning, he essentially collapsed into the bed.

  Sleep never came, though.

  But I certainly did. Several times.

  The testosterone-laden comment—not that he had any of that left either—made him smile. Using his fist, he rubbed sleep from his eyes and stretched with a yawn. A shower. That would make things better for sure. Or at least, less worse.

  Erika stirred as he kissed her forehead, pushing hair from her face, but she soon snuggled back into the bed, the faint hint of a smile on her face. Satisfied, he searched through the hallway closet to find a spare towel, and then hopped into the shower. Warm water rushed over him, and he turned the temperature up warmer, until it slightly scalded his skin. Rubbing off the efforts of the day before, he stole a smidgen of her body wash from the shelf and used it to clean his junk and armpits. The former protested slightly at the treatment, while the other thanked him after his exertions the night before.

  Refreshed and clean, feeling peaceful and calm at last, he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. The morning may have come early, but he was in an amazing mood, regardless of the hour. Things had gone well with Erika the night before. Extremely well.

  Moving into the front of the house where the living room was, he dropped the towel and tugged on his boxers.

  “Maybe I’ll make breakfast for her,” he muttered to himself, happy with the idea. That would be one way to ensure she wanted him to stay over again.

  Without warning the front window exploded inward in a hail of glass shards that pelted his body, opening numerous minor cuts. Something thumped down onto the ground. From the bedroom Erika sc
reamed.

  “Stay there!” he roared. “Lock the door!”

  The instant he heard the door slam he threw himself through the window. There hadn’t been any engine sounds from outside, which meant that someone on foot had tossed the stone that now lay in the middle of Erika’s floor.

  He ran across the tiny lawn and onto the sidewalk. Shoes scuffed to his right and he set off in pursuit, bare feet slapping against the hard concrete, rubbing them smooth as it abraded the soles. Harden’s arms pumped and he accelerated after his quarry. The target was wearing black shorts, a lightweight gray hoodie, and bright white shoes. Sneakers. He was fast, but he was only running in fear.

  Harden was fueled by his anger. Anger at whoever had dared to threaten Erika. At the person who had woken her from such a peaceful slumber. The one who had disturbed his calm morning. His feet barely touched the ground as he closed in on his prey. Whoever they were, they tried to avoid him, taking turns without warning. At one point they crossed a front yard, jumped over a fence that surrounded the tiny backyards of the little units, and kept running.

  Right behind them came Harden, growing angrier by the moment, his legs powering him closer. He cleared the fence without breaking stride, simply jumping up and soaring through the air in a leap that would make any human high-jumper fly into a jealous rage. He landed and rolled back to his feet, pushing off in pursuit once more.

  “I’m going to catch you,” he growled as the distance closed.

  The hoodie finally blew backward and into his range. Harden snagged it, and the pair fell, tumbling across a lawn and onto a sidewalk. The roll scraped a large chunk of skin from his forearm and his quarry’s face.

  He didn’t even bother to see who it was. So enraged by that point, Harden pulled back his fist and drove it square into the other person’s face. Blood started to flow where he’d opened a cut. His fist rose and fell again. And again. And again. At some point his target stopped resisting, but he didn’t care. Anger fueled his rage and he pummeled the other shifter into unconsciousness, and beyond.

  The blows stopped abruptly as a hand caught his wrist and hauled him to his feet with a casual ease. Harden snarled and spun, his fist heading to where he expected his opponent’s face to be.

  “No.” The simple command came a split second before the grip on his wrist used it to toss him to the side, his punch turning into an impotent flail as he hit the ground, bounced onto the grass, and rolled several times.

  Normally Harden would have come to his feet, ready to continue the attack. But in the brief second before he’d hit the ground, the face of his supposed attacker had come into view. It was the same shifter with the grayish-tinged hair and interesting brown eyes that had walked him to the ball two nights past.

  “You,” he said slowly. “What are you doing here?”

  The other shifter shrugged. “I think the better question is, what are you doing here?”

  Harden pointed at the other shifter. His face was a ruin, but his chest still rose and fell raggedly. “He threw a rock into someone’s apartment. That’s a threat to their person. I chased him, he fled. That’s fleeing arrest or whatever. “

  The bear shifter nodded. “And the beatdown you were giving him? What was that exactly?”

  “A deterrent,” Harden snapped, feeling surly at being questioned.

  “Right. Looks more like unnecessary violence to me.” The bear shifter shrugged. “Now, you know you won’t get in trouble, especially since he’s not dead. But if you really think that’s going to get him and his little gang of friends to leave you alone, then you’re wrong.”

  “How did you know about that?” Harden snapped.

  “Doesn’t matter. But I do. That’s not important. What is, is the fact that you were ready to kill him for throwing a rock.”

  “I was not!” he protested, but the words rang hollow and false.

  Shit. Had he really been ready to kill him? Harden glanced down at the shifter once more, only belatedly realizing that it was the younger brother. Aww hell. Angelo was going to be pissed. The youth’s face was a wreck. Broken bones everywhere, numerous cuts, both eyes swollen shut, jaw clearly dislocated.

  Harden had done all that, without recognizing who it was he was attacking. The kid had never stood a chance. A single punch, maybe two, was all it would have taken. Instead he’d laid the kid out with blow after blow, hitting him as hard as he could.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I just…I was back in Kronum for a moment.” He looked up at the bear shifter, noting that his black shirt had a logo on it the same color of purple as the tie he’d worn. “You don’t know what it was like,” he said softly. “You had to fight, it was either them, or you. No quarter was given, and none asked.” He shook his head. “We did things. Things you wouldn’t believe.”

  “I’ve seen war, son,” the shifter said, squatting down next to him. “I fought in the one that just happened. I saw things, did things that still give me nightmares. Images in my head that will never, ever fade. I see them sometimes with my eyes open during the middle of the day. It’s terrible. I understand, I truly do. But that’s no excuse to beat a kid to death.”

  Harden looked away, ashamed of himself.

  “I don’t want to be like that anymore,” he said, terrorized by his own demons. “I didn’t use to be this…this angry.”

  The bear shifter nodded. “Have you talked to anyone about it?”

  His mind flashed back to the night before, to sitting in Erika’s arms, on the verge of breaking down, of spilling everything. He’d come so close to telling her about his pain. About the way he often couldn’t sleep at night, or how he would wake up drenched in sweat, lungs clamped tight so he couldn’t scream. But he hadn’t.

  “I’m working on it,” he said more harshly than he intended. “It’s hard,” he added, trying to soften the words.

  He frowned as another thought came to him. That morning he’d awoken early, yes, but he wasn’t drenched in sweat, at least not any that hadn’t been there when he’d finally fallen asleep the night before. Racking his brain, he tried to recall living through the nightmares that usually haunted his sleep. Nothing came to him.

  Could Erika be the source of his peaceful sleep? It had to be more than just the sex and physical exertion. Deep within him, something stirred. He couldn’t be positive, but was it—

  “I’m working on it,” he repeated, sounding more confident.

  He needed to explore that more. To understand what was happening to him, and how she affected him.

  “Good. In the meantime, let’s take this punk to the embassy.” The bear shifter grinned evilly. “I doubt Andrew will like to hear that he was terrorizing the human women who are under his protection.”

  Harden couldn’t help but grin, falling in step with the shifter.

  In the back of his mind though, something niggled at him. Trying to remind him of something. Something he was forgetting…

  Chapter Sixteen

  Erika

  “Harden?” she called out once more.

  As with before, there was no response. Just silence. There had been nothing but silence since she’d woken up to the sound of the window breaking. Technically she’d been awake since he kissed her on the forehead, but it had been one of those semi-states of awareness. The shattering of glass had fixed her of that quickly however, and now she sat cross-legged on her bed, comforter pulled up in front of her like a flimsy and utterly useless shield, and yet still somehow reassuring.

  Harden had told her to stay there, so she’d slammed the door shut. Now, twenty minutes later, she was still waiting for him to come back, but it was looking more and more likely that he wasn’t returning. Nobody was answering her calls, and she was starting to get annoyed, but also scared. Maybe whoever it was had killed Harden. Was he even now lying somewhere in her house, dead or dying?

  The instant that thought struck she darted for the door. There was nothing she could really use for a weapon in her b
edroom, but she clutched a pillow tightly. If someone was there she could throw it at them and start to run while they were forced to deflect it. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.

  “Harden?” she asked, flinging the door open and stepping back in case someone was waiting for her.

  Nothing happened. Nobody jumped out from the hallway to attack her; there were no screams or shouts. Just more silence. She could see down the length of her unit at the shattered glass covering her little living room. In the middle of it all was a large stone with a white patch on it.

  Looking around, she saw no signs of Harden. No body, no pools of blood. Nothing. Sticking to the far wall, she moved to the front door and slipped on shoes to protect her feet. Then she walked across the glass, shards crunching under her feet, until she got to the rock. Picking it up, she noticed that the white patch was actually paper taped to it, with a message scrawled across it in red marker.

  Stay away from the Kronum shifter. This is your last chance.

  She eyed the rock, and then dropped it to the ground, unsure of what to do with it, or with the broken window either. When she’d moved in, they’d been given a number to call about problems with the units. That seemed like a good place to start. Hopefully they wouldn’t charge her for a new window. She’d just remove the note and say someone tossed a rock through it, probably vandals from Cloud Lake or something. She could play it off.

  She was just hanging up her phone when the door thundered under repeated hammerblow-like knocks.

  “I’m getting really sick of people knocking at my front door,” she muttered. It never led to good things, unless it was Harden returning. But he had no reason to hammer away at it like that.

  Unless he was hurt.

  “Coming!” Erika shouted, dashing to the door and flinging it open.

  The bald man from the ball strode into her apartment, looking around angrily.

  “Where is he?”

  “Where is who?” she snapped back. “Who the hell are you? Get the fuck out of my house.”