I have to drag poor Tia to the vet, she's got problems, so I'm handing over the microphone to Blair Valentine, that evil twin of mine. She's posting an excerpt from her upcoming Ellora's Cave werewolf erotica called CAPTIVE MATE. It's out this December. I've been ignoring Blair, who keeps whining for attention. Blair isn't very creative these days. She says being creative under all this pressure is like a pimply science geek trying to get an erection with the cute captain of the cheerleading squad. You WANT it to happen with all your might, but buddy, it's just going to be a limp noodle.
copyright 2006 by Blair Valentine
Her body tightened in anticipation even as her mind rebelled. He was a massive male, standing a good six feet three inches. Broad shoulders stretched as wide as the doorway. His body was heavily muscled. Steely dark brown eyes locked with hers. His full, sensual mouth was unsmiling. A small bruise darkened one cheek. Assorted other bruises and scrapes dented his thick arms.
Her gaze dropped to the faded denim jeans he always wore. They hugged his muscular thighs. Alyssa’s breath caught in her lungs at the massive bulge at the crotch.
Ready for her.
Moisture pooled between her clenched thighs. Making her ready for him.
His nostrils flared. A pulse beat wildly at the base of his throat. Testosterone and adrenaline levels elevated during the fight with the other males had released the primitive male. The aching between her legs intensified. Her nipples tautened.
She inched farther away until her legs connected with the bed. Alyssa sat with a small woof!
Spurs on his boot heels clinked as he crossed the room over to her. Dimly she thought Granny would frown upon him scarring the oak. Marcus advanced until he stood over her. A hank of damp, dark hair hung over his forehead. Her senses caught the smell of aroused male mingling with fresh soap, clean skin.
He had showered before coming to her.
Trying for levity, she considered, “You look like you got trapped in a cattle stampede. Really, you should try to play nice with the other boys, Marcus. Give peace a chance.”
The corners of his mouth twitched in a ghostlike smile. “I would if they would. But I couldn’t let any of them claim what’s mine. You.”
Bristling, she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not yours, Marcus. I’m not anyone’s.”
“You’re mine, Lyssa,” he countered softly. “Always have been. I just waited for you to grow up and Change. Do you think after all these years of protecting you I’d let another male mate with you?”
The bed squeaked in protest as he sat. Marcus reached up, fingered a strand of her long blonde hair. “So beautiful,” he murmured, lifting it to his nose and sniffing. “You smell like wildflowers and honey on a warm summer’s day.”
She gave his deep chest a small push. “You smell like tacos.”
It wasn’t true but his nearness rattled her. She couldn’t mate with Marcus. He was too overwhelming, too intense. Too imprinted on her brain with the erotic thoughts she’d entertained of him recently.
His large fingers grasped a gray velvet box. Marcus handed it to her without flourish. “For you.”
The traditional mating gift. Taking it meant acceptance of her fate. Alyssa hesitated. His dark brows lifted. “Consider it a gift between friends.”
Well, that couldn’t hurt. After all they were friends. Had been anyway. She opened the box. The slim silver band studded with tiny turquoise stones glinted in the light as Alyssa lifted it from its velvet nest. Crying out in delight, she cradled it in her palm. Choosing it took a great deal of thought.
“Silver went better with the turquoise than the traditional gold did. And humans think werewolves can be killed with silver. Ha. We sure fooled them with that old myth,” he remarked.
Marcus grinned and slipped the band onto her right ring finger. She flashed him a grave smile. “Turquoise is my favorite.”
“I know. I wanted to get you a cute little turquoise collar as well but the pet store didn’t have them in your size.”
She started to sputter, caught his amused look and gave a good-natured growl instead.
“You’re so cute when you growl, Lyssa,” he teased.
His expression turned intent once more. Marcus brushed her cheek with a brief kiss, sending a small tingle up her spine. “Get undressed, Lyssa. I can’t wait any longer. If I do, I won’t be able to control myself and it’s your first time. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Well, then I’ll save you the trouble.”
SPRONG! The bedsprings squeaked as she jumped up, bolted for the door, fumbling for the latch. Freedom was just outside…so close.
Hot breath on her neck, but while Marcus was strong, she was nimble. Alyssa cleared the door, slammed it shut.
The lock clicked home. Locking him inside.
A relieved sigh escaped her lungs. If she had mated with Marcus…
From the other side of the door she heard a low chuckle. And a deep male voice clearly saying, “Ha.”
The groan of metal bending snapped her out of her astounded daze. Alyssa stepped back, watching in slack-jawed amazement as he ripped the two-inch thick steel door from its hinges and set it aside.
Marcus stood on the threshold, lifting a dark brow in mock amusement. “Bends steel with his bare paws. You always did call me Super Lupus when you were little. Remember, Lyssa?”
Pivoting, she turned to run. Two large hands that had torn apart steel caught her with surprising gentleness. Easily he slung her over his shoulder, ignoring her screaming curses and fists hammering at his broad back. Marcus marched to the bed and carefully deposited her onto it.
She shrank back as his gaze burned into hers.
“Don’t fight me, baby. Don’t fight your nature. Surrender to it,” he said softly.
“I don’t want this mating, Marcus. Don’t make me do it.”
“I won’t force you. When I make you mine, you’ll be begging me for it, Lyssa. You want me as much as I want you. I can smell it on you, baby. You’re wet between your legs. Hot and wet with the wanting. It’s nothing to be ashamed of or fear. It’s nature’s way of preparing you to take me inside you.”
Alyssa bit her lip, preparing a retort. Wordlessly, she stared as he yanked off boots and socks. Marcus reached back, tugged his T-shirt over his head. It dropped to the floor.
Her heart thudded an erratic tattoo against her chest.
Muscles rippled over smooth, bronzed skin as he flexed his biceps. A dark thatch of hair covered his powerful chest, narrowing to a line marching past the waistband of his jeans. He watched her stare.
Her tongue darted out, licked dry lips. Thoughts of escape evaporated.
Marcus leaned over, bracing his arms on either side of her, trapping her between them. He inhaled deeply, watching her. Then he nuzzled the top of her head, ran his nose down to her temple, gave it a small kiss.
The courtship dance.
Cupping the back of her head, he leaned forward and kissed her. Alyssa’s eyes fluttered shut at the light, authoritative kiss—his warm mouth moving slowly over hers. Her lips parted. Oh he tasted wonderful, like warm honey. Intrigued, she opened to him.
He slipped inside, his tongue exploring, touching, inviting, her into a deeper kiss. Against her better judgment, she accepted, boldly tangling her tongue with him, drinking him in, craving his taste.
Marcus broke the kiss as suddenly as it began. A knowing smile touched his mouth. Alyssa swallowed hard as he stepped back, fingers unbuckling his belt, sliding it off. Slowly he unzipped his jeans, slid them past his narrow hips.