Wild Instincts - Complete Edition (Werewolf Erotic Romance) Page 9

  "Thorne!" His name burst from my lips the second I'd shifted back into my human form, sliding down into the hole amidst a scatter of twigs and pebbles. He was lying propped up against the wall, our knapsack by his side, clutching at a tear in the right arm of his jacket. Blood dripped from his sleeve, and he was breathing heavily. Despite the obvious pain he was in his eyes lit up the second he saw me, and he struggled to rise to his feet before I hurried over and pushed him back down. "Don't get up, you idiot!" I said. "How bad it is? Is it still bleeding?" I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, trying to pry it away from the tear in his jacket.

  "I'll live. Don't worry about me, are you alright?"

  "I'm fine," I lied. My thigh was tender and thumping with pain, but he didn't need to worry about that right now. "Come on, let me see. Take this jacket off." I tugged at his wrist, gripping the edge of his collar and easing it off his shoulders.

  Thorne winced, but he moved his hand and let me tug the jacket off. "I tried to follow you, but all I found was our bag. Then I heard Cyan yelling and figured you'd be able to track a bleeding wolf much quicker than I'd be able to find you."

  "You could've waited!" I said. "I thought you'd— I thought you were really hurt!" I yanked the last part of Thorne's bloodied sleeve off a little harder than I'd intended, and he winced again.

  "Sorry. I just wanted to get somewhere safe to rest, and far away from Cyan."

  I glanced around the den, and realised that it was more than just some animal's abandoned haunt. There were the ashes of a fire in one corner, a mattress of dry grass covered by a blanket in the other, and what looked like a small wooden box half-buried in the earth beside it. Thorne's eyes darted to the box as I glanced at it.

  "Is this another of your little hideouts?" I said.

  "Yeah. An old one." Thorne tensed as I put my hands around his arm. The sudden tension made me flinch, my cheeks heating as I felt his warm skin against mine. He had a nasty gash in his arm near the shoulder, the fabric of his T-shirt torn open around the wound. There were bloody scratches from Cyan's claws running down his arm below the elbow, and another series of rips in the side of his shirt against his chest, but none of them looked as serious as the gash.

  I reached over and dug through our pack until I found an old roll of bandages at the bottom along with some other emergency medical supplies. I was no doctor, but I figured I could at least try to dress the wound. I had to do something. With a splash of water from our canteen I cleaned the gash as best I could, then pressed a thick wad of bandage against the area and began wrapping my improvised pad in place with the rest of the roll. Thorne was obviously in pain, but he was doing his best to hide it. Still Mr. Butch.

  "You dragged our bag with you all the way?" I said, trying to distract him as I worked.

  He nodded. "It's a lot harder when you have to do it with your mouth. I think I can still taste the straps." He pulled a face, and I smiled. Then, without thinking, I held the bandage in place with a thumb and leaned forward to kiss him. His lips touched mine for a brief second, began to move in response, and then I pulled back.

  "Maybe that'll take the taste away," I said softly, and turned my attention back to the bandage, my cheeks flushed with heat. Thorne didn't say a word, but I knew what he was thinking. We both knew.

  We can't do this.

  I tugged the bandage tight, tied the ends together, and cleared my throat in an attempt to dispel the tension in the air. The moment had passed. It was best to just forget it and move on.

  "How does that feel?" I said

  Thorne paused for a moment, then tried to lean forwards and gasped with pain. "Better, but I don't think I'll be going anywhere today. If you can just help me over to the fire, I'll—"

  "No," I placed a hand on his chest as he tried to move. "You stay there and rest, you lost a lot of blood. I'll take care of everything."

  Thorne looked like he was about to protest, but after trying to move one last time he let out a sigh and nodded. I slid one of our bedrolls behind him and made sure he was leaning comfortably against the wall, then turned away to check through our supplies. The warmth of the kiss still lingered on my lips, and I could feel my instinct stirring deep in my belly. For whatever reason, my desires had fallen quiet when Cyan had practically forced himself on me. Perhaps it had been the realisation that Thorne was in danger. Had I ever been in a life-or-death situation like that since becoming a werewolf? Maybe my instinct would always fade into the background in moments of urgency. But I couldn't rely on friends nearly dying every time I needed to be in control of my feral side. Now that I knew Thorne was safe—at least for now—my desires were beginning to rekindle. I needed to keep busy.

  I unpacked our gear and what little food we had left, but when I nudged Thorne to offer him some late lunch I found that his eyelids had drooped shut. I panicked for a moment, but when I pressed a hand to his neck I felt his pulse strong and steady. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of sleep.

  Werewolves were tough to kill, especially big ones like Thorne. A smile touched the edge of my lips as I watched him sleep, until the warm feeling spreading through my stomach forced me to look away. I was aching, physically and emotionally drained, but there was a lot to do before nightfall if we wanted to stay safe in our little den, and I didn't feel comfortable going to sleep while Thorne was hurt.

  I limped back to the river and refilled our canteen, then, keeping an eye on the entrance to the den the whole time, laid my clothes on the bank and slipped into the water to bathe. The river was cold, but the sun was up, and I was glad to wash the grime of the last couple of days from my body. The cool water soothed the pain in my thigh, caressing my skin and easing some of the tension of the past few hours. By the time I stepped out into the sunlight my leg was already beginning to feel better. I could thank my werewolf physiology for that one; any regular human girl would've been nursing a nasty bruise for days.

  Thorne was still asleep when I went back to check on him, so I decided to spend the afternoon gathering a stack of dry wood for the fire and scattering the blood-speckled leaves that marked our trail. I wouldn't be able to get rid of our scent entirely, but I could at least make it a little harder for anyone who tried to follow us. The sun was still high in the sky by the time I was done, and Thorne showed no signs of waking. I remembered the woven screen he'd used to cover the entrance of the cave we'd spent the night in before, and began my search for fallen branches all over again. This time I picked supple, leafy ones that still held on to their autumn foliage. It took far longer than I'd anticipated, but several hours later I'd managed to put together a flimsy, but serviceable screen that I could lean across the entrance to our den. There was no way to make it look natural, so I resorted to heaping up as many dead leaves on top as I could. It wasn't elegant, but at least we'd be hidden from wild animals and casual passers by.

  Twilight was beginning to fall by the time Thorne finally awoke, blinking and murmuring in the gloom as I sat across from him building a fire.

  "Hey sleepy." I smiled at him.

  "Hey. How long was I out for?"

  "All afternoon. Don't worry, I fixed everything up for us. We'll be nice and cosy here for the night."

  "What about tomorrow?" Thorne rubbed his eyes.

  "I don't know." My gaze drifted to the floor. "I don't suppose we can go back now, can we? Cyan would kill you."

  "He wouldn't get lucky twice." Thorne grimaced, rubbing his injured arm. I shook my head at him. Thorne was intelligent, considerate, and practical, but he was still proud. There was something very solemn and noble about him, just like his wolf.

  "Maybe we could stick with our original plan?" I said. "We could head back to my house, stay with my family for a while?"

  "We can't, not with my instinct and yours together. A day trip's one thing, but we need to get back amongst other wolves soon. We'll be a danger to everyone around us till we do. Besides, your old home's the first place Cyan would come looking for you."

/>   I bit my lip. "You don't think he'd..?"

  "No." Thorne shook his head. "Even Cyan wouldn't hurt your family just to get at you, but he could send someone to keep watch on them. I have a feeling he's not going to let us go easily, his instinct won't let him."

  I nodded, telling myself that he was right. The thought of Ellie being in danger terrified me, but what choice did I have other than to stay away? I just had to hope that Cyan would keep his distance too. "I've never seen him like that before," I said. "I mean, he's done some bad things in the past, but today he was just... savage."

  Thorne's eyes were distant as he spoke. "Our instincts make us all do bad things. You, me, and Cyan. I don't like him, but I doubt he really wanted to do what he did. Maybe there's still a human in there that regrets it."

  "Maybe." I picked up our flint and steel and struck a vicious spark into the kindling. It was much easier to be angry at Cyan than to try and understand him. I coaxed a few more sparks into the heap of wood shavings and dry moss until it began to crackle and smoulder, watching the faint wisps of smoke drift up through the cracks between the roots above us. "So, we go looking for other wolves when you're better."

  Thorne nodded. "We don't have much choice."

  "Do you know anything about the other packs?"

  "A bit." His eyes drifted to the wooden box beside the mattress again, and I wondered whether there was more to this den than he was letting on. "Enough to get us started, at least, but we can worry about that in the morning." He winced as he adjusted his posture.

  "Here, let me." I hurried over and helped him edge across to the second bedroll I'd laid out beside him.

  "Thanks," he sighed. He felt hot to the touch, almost feverish.

  "You're burning up."

  "I'm fine."

  "Stop trying to be tough!" I swatted his uninjured shoulder. "Let me get you a damp cloth and something to eat." I was tired of Thorne being so uncompromisingly strong about everything. He was tired, I was tired, and all I wanted was for him to lay back and let me take care of him.

  I searched through our supplies and picked out a bag of squashed berries, then wet a folded strip of bandage and laid it over Thorne's brow. I propped myself up beside him and lifted a berry to his lips, feeling their warmth against my fingertips as I fed him. He frowned and murmured something in protest, but I carried on bringing the berries to his mouth, and he kept on eating them.

  I knew my instinct was creeping up on me. It was still there beneath the surface, steadily gaining ground. I was tired of fighting it. Night was falling, and all I cared about was taking care of Thorne. If my instinct was going to take hold of me, so be it. I lifted the final berry to his lips and let my hand rest gently against his chin as he chewed, his eyes closed.

  "I should take a look at those scratches of yours," I said quietly, lifting the bottom of his shirt.

  "I'm f—"

  I pressed a finger to his lips and pulled his shirt the rest of the way up, helping him ease it off one shoulder at a time. My hand brushed his side, feeling for the tender claw marks Cyan had raked across his chest. I paused, my gaze moving up Thorne's body until I was looking into his eyes. They were open again, tired and green and flickering with distant longing.

  "Lyssa, we can't."

  "You won't hurt me," I whispered, sliding on top of him. "Not with your arm the way it is."

  His expression was pained, torn between desire and the will to resist. "It'll only make things harder for us tomorrow. And every day after."

  "I know." I rested my forehead against his, letting my hands touch his shoulders. I was tired. Physically, emotionally. I just needed to forget it all and be with the person I wanted to be with. I didn't care about the consequences. "But it's not tomorrow yet. Just let me be with you, Thorne." I kissed him, wrapping my fingers around the back of his neck, and breathed a sigh against his lips as I felt his hand twining through my hair, pulling me in with warmth and hunger.

  His tongue curled around mine, and even in his weakened state I felt a strength and intensity within Thorne's body that far outstripped my own. I leaned forwards, letting myself melt into him as I kissed his hot mouth over and over until I was breathless. I needed this. That morning I'd been ready to escape from everything by spending a day with my family, forgetting all of my worries and pretending life was simple again. Then Cyan had snatched that chance away from me. I didn't want to spend another night out in the wild wrestling with my instinct. I didn't have the energy to fight it any more.

  The feelings of guilt slipped from my mind as I lost myself in the embrace of Thorne's lips, every brush of his tongue a delicious moment of comfort. He tasted of sweet wood smoke and the musk of the forest. He held the back of my neck tight as he inhaled the perfume of my body, an almost wild urgency to his sharp intake of breath as he filled himself with my scent. I could feel his wolf beneath the surface every time his fingernails dug into my skin or his tongue pressed deep into my mouth, hard and demanding, searching for my submission.

  But even though his wolf was there, it never fully took control. He was still Thorne, and when he looked into my eyes it was with affection and curiosity. As we shared one long, smouldering glance, my fingers teasing gently through the hair on his chest, I realised that my own wolf was surprisingly quiet too. She was urging me on, driving me, never letting me forget the needs of my instinct, but she wasn't trying to drive Lyssa the human from my mind. She let me move at my own pace, as though quietly content that she would be getting everything she wanted in good time. I kissed my way along Thorne's jaw and let my lips drift over to his ear.

  "You're my alpha now," I whispered.

  Thorne stroked the side of my neck, teasing back my hair until he found my earlobe with his teeth, biting and tugging gently as a low growl built in the back of his throat. My eyelids fluttered as I let myself go limp against him, resting my body against his powerful chest, submitting to his desires. When his hand slid down into the small of my back I let him hook his fingers below the hem of my top, lifting the fabric a few inches so that he could caress my glowing skin. I adored the feeling of his fingers on my body, and found myself wishing he had both hands free, to hold and grip and squeeze and scratch.

  Thorne hitched my tank top further up, and I straightened to pull off the whole garment, baring my soft breasts in the glow of the firelight. I let him look at me for a moment, hiding behind the curtain of my hair a little shyly. I was used to the heat and intimacy of a passionate moment, but I rarely ever felt admired. Desired, certainly, but not appreciated in the way Thorne's eyes appreciated me as they drank in every smooth curve and contour of my body.

  I leaned forward and kissed his chest, tasting the salty pinpricks of sweat that were beginning to form, and traced the tip of my tongue downwards for more. My nipples hardened as they brushed over his tight stomach, my mouth moving slowly and passionately, savouring every taste of him as I paused to kiss the edge of his navel, resting my cheek against his skin for a lingering moment. He kept a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm, but not rough. His fingers would squeeze occasionally, guiding me further down or holding me still as he enjoyed the wet warmth of my mouth against his chest. When I reached the band of his jeans my fingers felt for the belt buckle, unfastening and unzipping as I cupped my palm over the bulge beneath. I squeezed Thorne gently through his underwear, my breath panting quickly against his stomach as I felt him swell and strain against my hand.

  I'd never been with anyone like this before. My instinct had never given me time to slow down, to savour and appreciate my partners and drink in every last detail of their bodies. I'd never felt the urge to explore and experiment like I did now with Thorne. I wanted every moment to last.

  I curled my fingernails into the band of his underwear and eased it down, reaching in to feel his shaft and massage it between my fingers before letting him free. Thorne exhaled softly, shifting his hand to cup my cheek as he eased my lips down. I murmured with longing, feeling my own warm excitement
between my legs as I squirmed. My fingertips squeezed a little more firmly, sliding up and down his length, stroking him back and forth until a sticky bead of arousal pooled at the tip of his shaft. I let him feel my eager breath for a moment longer before kissing the head, taking it between my lips and letting his glans glide across my tongue. I closed my eyes, delighting in the taste of him, and a moment later I was moving my mouth down the side of his shaft, kissing and massaging until I reached the base, then traced my tongue all the way back up, teasing around the edge of his crown. Thorne's fingers tightened around the back of my neck, and I let him slide himself fully into my mouth, between my lips and over my tongue until I could taste every inch of his thick length. The gentle pressure on the back of my neck felt good, and I looked up at my lover with eyes full of longing, gripping his thigh with one hand as I slid the other up his chest. This was more than just lust. Tonight I needed intimacy, comfort, warmth. Something I'd never gotten with Cyan.

  I parted my wet lips, panting as I curled my tongue around Thorne's shaft and let it brush against the inside of my cheek. My heart pounded in my chest as more of his salty scent invaded my senses, running through my nostrils and filling my lungs. I sucked on him hungrily, moaning as his hand guided me up and down until he was twitching and tensing in my mouth. My right hand massaged his chest, smooth and glistening with a thin gloss of perspiration. Every bit of me longed to pleasure him, to satisfy him, to serve my alpha.

  "Lyssa," he growled, lifting me up until his shaft slid from between my lips. His eyes were full of green fire, smouldering in the flickering light. "I want you. Now." It wasn't an observation or a request; it was a demand. I clambered up his chest, resting my tender breasts against his feverishly hot body, looking him in the eyes.

  "Have me," I whispered. "You don't need to be gentle."