To Tame a Werewolf

River of Dreams:

TO TAME A WEREWOLF By

Myra Nour

TO TAME A WEREWOLF

Myra Nour

© copyright April 2006, Myra Nour Cover art by Dan Skinner, © copyright March 2006 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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Chapter One

The workshop had been interesting, as well as the drive through the lovely West Virginia mountains, but the hours she spent with Connor had been even more fascinating. Angela was frustrated with herself. She had hoped the trip would dispel the last vestiges of attraction she felt for her coworker, instead it had done nothing but fuel it. The next evening they left the workshop at 3 p.m. They would get back late, but since it was Friday, she could sleep in tomorrow. Angela didn’t like the way the sky had looked all day, and kept commenting on the clouds as she peered through the windshield. Connor’s expression was stolid and he had no comments to add to her weather concerns. They hadn’t driven more than thirty minutes before the first flakes hit. At first it was pretty, fluttering down and melting immediately on the glass. In moments, the flurries turned into a maelstrom of flakes that seemed to fight in order to pelt the car. Connor slowed down and Angela became nervous. The road and landscape were turning white quickly. “I’m going to find a local station.” She fiddled with the radio, locating a station that was discussing the weather. “Officials urge all residents to stay indoors and anyone traveling to seek shelter.” She sat stunned and noticed Connor’s hands tighten on the wheel. Not only was a blizzard developing, but they were headed right into it. Angela sighed. “I’ll start looking for a hotel sign.”

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When Connor didn’t answer, she stared at him. His body was rigid. “You don’t think we should stop?” “No.” His word was clipped, as if he was reluctant to answer. “Maybe it’s not as bad as it sounds.” She was annoyed. Why was he being so stubborn? Perhaps he was right, but it was doubtful. She chose to stay silent and see what happened. By the end of another thirty minutes, her nerves were frayed. They were crawling along, the wipers going furiously when the wheels slid for the second time. Connor turned the wheel toward the slide, gaining control, and Angela let out the breath she’d been holding. How many times could his skill save them from landing in a snowcovered ditch? She was becoming more anxious as the minutes ticked by. The car skidded around a curve, and then she spied a brightly colored sign through the mad melee of flakes. If it hadn’t been so large, she wouldn’t have seen it. “There’s a lodge at the next exit.” Silence. “Did you hear me?” “I heard.” The car spun sideways, skidding toward the roadside, but Connor managed to keep it from hitting the rock wall. “Okay, we’ll stop,” he growled. Great. Foul weather and now a companion with a mood to match. Angela switched her attention to the road. Even getting up the exit was nerve racking, then another mile before they found the entrance to the lodge. She bit her bottom lip when she spotted the steep hill leading upward. The wheels spun, Connor gunned the motor, and somehow they made it to the top.

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Connor stepped carefully around the car and took her arm, helping her up the slippery walkway. The lodge was a huge log building and a welcome sight. Once inside, Angela’s shoulders relaxed and she shivered in the enveloping warmth. A fireplace took up almost all the far wall, and a crackling fire heated the lobby. The room was furnished in brown leather furniture with rustic wood accessories. Charming. Directly in front of them was a pleasant-faced old man behind a counter. “Glad you folks made it safe.” “Please tell me you have rooms?” Angela smiled. “You’re in luck. I have one cabin.” The man adjusted his glasses and peered at the register. “That wouldn’t have been available if the couple hadn’t cancelled.” “We’ll need two rooms.” Connor pointed to her and then himself. “We’re not together.” The man took off his glasses. “Sorry, that’s all I have. But I’ll give it to you at a special rate.” “Two beds will work.” Angela leaned on the counter. She thought the price the man quoted was great. “Does it have two separate bedrooms?” Connor’s tone was edgy. She flashed him a frustrated look. Was he that scared of being alone with her? “Nope.” The clerk shook his head. “One double bed, but the couch does make out into a bed.” “Great, we’ll take it.” “Wait,” Connor interrupted. “Are there any other motels nearby?” “Five miles ... but the roads have been closed. Just heard it on the radio.”

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Angela pulled out her credit card and slapped it down. Connor took out his wallet and handed her cash. “Half the room.” His face was expressionless, but his eyes flashed with concern. Angela stuck the money in her purse. “Do you have luggage?” The man glanced down at their feet. Connor turned without a word and left. A few minutes later he returned, his coat covered with snow, a bag in each hand. The man handed her a key. “Go left. Your cabin is the last one, number seven.” He looked at Angela’s open coat. “Better bundle up, it’s about a quarter of a mile.” Connor glanced at her and she stared back. Shrugging, she buttoned the coat and took her small suitcase from him. As they left the man called after them, “It’s the honeymoon cottage, so it’s far away from the others.” “That’s good.” She frowned, puzzled. Why did Connor think an isolated cabin was good when he hadn’t even wanted it in the first place? Angela stopped in the doorway. “Is there a restaurant in the lodge?” “None of the employees could make it in, but I keep the pantry stocked during the winter in case of storms.” She nodded and followed Connor. Her feet sank in a two-foot snowdrift before they made it to the road, where it was shallower. By the time they reached the cottage, she was frozen. Angela glanced back at the last cottage they’d passed; it was barely visible.

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Chapter Two

Shivering, she ran inside. All this lovely isolation wouldn’t be put to good use. How she wished she were here with Bob, her current biker/musician boyfriend. Instead, she was with Connor, the handsome professor. Even though they worked in different departments at the University, they always seemed to run into each other on campus. Connor wore his silky black hair long, with a ponytail at his nape. It was out of fashion, but the University wouldn’t tolerate a professor with flowing locks. She liked to picture it free, brushing the top of his broad shoulders. How she longed to run her fingers through its heavy mass, for it was the lustrous kind of mane that seemed to call out for a woman’s touch. His last name, Youngblood, suited him well, but she’d always wondered about Connor. Did he have an Irish grandmother? Perhaps his mother or father just liked the name. No one had to ask about his American Indian heritage, it was written across his proud facial features and flowing hair. All he needed was a headband and loincloth to complete the sexy image of a warrior in her mind. Angela shivered, overcome with lust at that image. With his strong face and cleft chin, his looks were devastating to female hearts. The glasses he always wore spoiled the male beauty of his face. Nevertheless, he was always surrounded by groups of admiring young coeds, but no one could question Connor’s integrity. His reputation was

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flawless and he acted courteous, mixed with a distant demeanor when around female students. Connor’s body didn’t help matters. She’d never seen him in anything but slacks and long sleeved shirts, yet his physique was still clearly discernible. A tight waist, large chest that promised muscle beneath, and a heavy furring of black hair that peeked above the V of his shirts. Angela’s body flushed with warmth as she mentally stripped him. He would sport a thick patch of dark hair across the chest, narrowing down to a sexy line that flowed beneath his pant’s waistline. A crackling drew her eyes to the fireplace. Connor had started a fire while her mind wandered where it shouldn’t have. Determined to distract herself, Angela looked around. Even more charming than the lobby of the lodge, she thought. One large room with an old-fashioned cast iron bed tucked in an alcove, and a thick, downy coverlet made it look very inviting. There was a small kitchen, complete with a table for four. The couch sat in front of the fireplace, with two crocheted lap robes spread over the back. Diving into the comfy couch, Angela spread one of the covers over her chest and legs. The room was only slightly chilly because the heating had been left on. It wouldn’t take long for a crackling fire to make the room toasty, at least within its immediate area. She could have set the thermostat higher, but the fire would be a much more pleasant way to warm up. “Can you see what you can find to eat?” Angela jumped up and searched the fridge. It was well stocked and she took out some mayonnaise. Glancing in the pantry, she was happy to find it well provided as well. Picking up a can of Spam, chips, bread, and two Cokes, she made sandwiches.

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They ate in silence in front of the fireplace. The TV didn’t work due to the storm, so after supper, Angela took a romance novel from her suitcase. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Connor. He was restless and kept staring out the windows. His agitation seemed to increase as dusk fell and he paced back and forth. Finally, she threw her book down. “What’s the matter with you?” Stepping in front of her, his posture rigid, he declared, “It’s not safe.” Glancing out the window, he added, “I must get out of this cabin.” Angela sprang to her feet. “Are you insane? You can’t go out in that blizzard.” She waved a hand at the snow hitting the panes. “I’ll sleep on the couch, if I have to. You’ll be safe from me.” His eyes swung to her face, the gray glittering like silver. They were so intense. For some reason she picked up a sense of danger radiating off of him in waves. “I am worried about your safety.” The words were ground out between his clenched jaws. She noticed his fists were balled and a slight trembling shook his frame. “Are you sick?” She took a step toward him. “Stay back,” he growled. Angela shivered. Something was definitely wrong. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear his hair looked wilder, standing out from his head as if he had tangled it with his hands. The black growth on his jaws was thick, looking more like three days worth instead of one. “It’s too late,” he snapped as he walked stiff-legged over to his suitcase. She didn’t know what was going on, but suddenly she was very frightened. The air was saturated with a manly musk and her heart raced

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like mad. Every nerve ending in her body screamed run.

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Chapter Three

Connor pulled four heavy dangling chains from his luggage and stumbled past her to the bed. Angela started toward him, but he snapped, “Get back,” his voice so deep it was unrecognizable. His back was turned and she stood in stunned disbelief as he ripped off his shirt, and then stripped his pants in seconds. His body shuddered violently and he crawled onto the bed, dragging the chains with him. Was he planning on raping her? Was this some sick game? Staring at Connor’s tight-featured face as he clamped manacles around his ankles, then secured the chains around the bedposts, she knew it was no game. “Quick,” he growled, panting, “Tie my arms.” He spread his muscular arms, the manacles already around his wrists. Angela still didn’t understand, but if Connor were crazy, it’d be safer with him chained up. She swiftly secured the ends of the chains with the locks that were attached. A key hung from each and she took them out with a jerk. Connor was twisting on the bed, his arms and legs straining against the metal. After a violent spasm passed, he stared toward the window, then back at her. In a deep, gravelly voice he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to put you in danger.” The next instant his face and body broke out in a sweat and he howled.

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Alarmed, and even more scared then she’d felt earlier, Angela backed away. She stared in disbelief at the writhing form. Muscles bulged, as if growing in spurts, like they were going to pop from beneath the restraining skin. What was happening to Connor? Something moved along his flesh and it took a few seconds for her to realize hair sprang from every pore. Long, thick, black hair. He howled again, his teeth snapping forcefully. Angela took another step backwards, her legs almost buckling as tremors shook her. The thing that lay stretched out on the bed whipped its head toward her, its silver eyes pinning her to the spot. Oh God. Could this be real? Was that a werewolf manacled to the bed? The creature lunged upward, its muscles rippling as it tried to break free. Angela screamed and ran outside, plowing into a snowdrift just off the porch. Her body pitched forward and she struggled to her feet. Snow came up to her thighs. Shivering violently, Angela realized she only had a sweater and pants on. Pushing her legs with force, she made it back to the porch. Clasping her body in a tight hug, she surveyed the landscape. The road and walkway had disappeared beneath heaped snowdrifts, and the flurries were so thick there was barely space between the wind-driven flakes. There were snow mounds higher than the pile she’d fallen into. She swallowed hard. If she stepped into a hole or lower area, the icy flakes could easily engulf her. That image terrified her. Angela turned, teeth chattering and stared at the door. Would she be any safer inside? Easing the door open, she peered toward the bed. The chains rattled, so she knew the beast was still secured in place.

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Slipping inside, she trembled, standing in a wet puddle for long, agonizing moments. Finally, her need for warmth won over, and she kept her eyes on the wolfman as she edged toward the fireplace. She must have stood there a good ten minutes, frozen in fear, before it soaked in that the werewolf was not going to break the chains. After her clothes dried, she walked slowly toward the bed, curiosity getting the better of her. Taking a deep breath, Angela pulled the recliner around facing the bed. The springs protested mightily as the beast growled and fought the chains. Easing into the chair, she sat with her legs tucked up, her chin resting on her knees. A spasm shook her and she grabbed the lap robe nearby, cocooning her body. It was not the chill air affecting her but the fear. Amazingly, an hour later her shoulders relaxed and she felt warm. The wolfman had not slackened a bit from his rabid behavior, but it appeared her body couldn’t maintain its heightened state of excitement. Or perhaps she finally realized that she was safe. Safe. Her lips quirked in a half-smile. Connor had feared for her safety. So that was why he didn’t wish to be closed up in a cabin with her. Some people would think she was weird for feeling laughter bubble inside her, though that was not unusual for her. She’d often laughed when faced with danger as if her body didn’t know the proper response. As the werewolf twisted on the bed, she realized much of that euphoric sensation came from the reality facing her. She’d finally found a legendary creature ... one that most sane people would never acknowledge existed. A giggle escaped her and the beast reacted with fresh howls. Angela

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hugged her knees. Werewolves were real. Did that mean vampires, mermaids, and unicorns could be too? A huge smile broke free. Maybe. The possibilities were so exciting, her heart thudded, joining the fear that had subsided, but never left her blood. Her mind raced as she went over her favorite legends. Last year she had traveled with a group of biker friends to search for Sasquatch, but they’d run across nothing but a cougar. She’d spent several weekends one summer trying to spot the Loch Ness Monster with no success. Angela had always been fascinated by myths and legends. Ancient creatures, whether real, like the dinosaur, or legendary, like the dragon, fascinated her. Even as adventurous as she was, Angela had found it difficult to swallow her sister’s story about a River Goddess. A legendary being that could fulfill a petitioner’s heart’s desire? Regardless, she had journeyed to the Amazon recently seeking the Goddess’ blessing. The setting where the ancient statue stood was mysterious enough to make her a believer. As the required offering, she had pitched a past boyfriend’s gold earring into the river. When she returned to the University and nothing developed except hot dreams about werewolves, she had been disappointed. She had asked the River Goddess for an encounter with a real werewolf and sexy dreams were all she got? Now she was faced with her the fulfillment of her wish, but could she handle it?

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Chapter Four

She didn’t think she could sleep a wink, so was shocked when she awoke the next morning. Her body was stiff from sleeping in the chair all night, so she stretched to get the kinks out. She got up slowly and walked quietly toward the bed. It was silent in the alcove and it took her a few seconds to pick out the form amongst the shadows. Connor lay sprawled, his limbs held fast by the chains. Angela licked her bottom lip unconsciously. Her wildest imaginings didn’t hold true to his male beauty. Even in repose, his muscles were boldly evident. Forcing patience, she ran her gaze slowly down his ripped body. Thick hair matted his chest, veering to a thin line leading downward, just as she had imagined. Her breath held as her gaze took in his cock. Even flaccid, it was large and thick. Her eyes flicked over his whole body. How could she ever have thought him sweet and nerdy? He looked dangerous. At the University, he had taken to wearing a tweed jacket once the weather cooled, covering that fine physique. Although the jacket looked good on him and contributed to his scholarly appearance, it didn’t seem right somehow. Now that she had seen his true self, she questioned her own judgment. Connor didn’t dress like a geek or act awkward like Jerry Lewis’ Nutty Professor ... well, except for the glasses and tweed jacket. Still, he didn’t fit the typical professor category. To be fair, Connor didn’t display

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many of the characteristics of nerds, who were just not her type. Nice men bored her. She had tried her share of beta men after much urging from her sister, Violet, whose grandest wish was to see her settle down. None of those relationships had lasted long and she’d treated the men like crap. She needed someone strong, an alpha male who could stand up to her aggressive streak. She preferred bikers, rock musicians, or fighters--all types she had actually dated. Bad boys. Yeah, that was her style. The dark, edgy men who made her blood pump and heart race whenever she was with them. This strange attraction she felt for Connor, not only with his hunky looks, but his charming ways, was making her feel confused. Of course there was the werewolf thing ... but just because he was cursed didn’t make him the kind of male she was attracted to did it? Now, he was here, vulnerable and totally nude. Unable to stop herself, Angela stared at his groin. Her eyes widened as his cock grew, standing rigid. As if pulled by something invisible, her eyes flashed to his face. He was awake, his gray eyes clear and rational. “Like what you see?” Somehow she knew he was irritated and asked the question to try and embarrass her. She was not easily embarrassed though. Moving with hip swinging steps, she stopped at the end of the bed, and then licked her lips in an exaggerated manner. “Yum, sure do.” His face was stony and his eyes flashed with something, whether it was anger or lust, she couldn’t tell. Running her fingertips along the cast iron rail, she drawled, “Such a treat shouldn’t be wasted.”

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His gaze turned toward the ceiling. “Can you undo me?” She’d been snubbed and how. Frustrated and angry herself, she unlocked his nearer ankle without giving him another look. Next, she took the chain off his right hand and then walked away. He could do the rest himself. Angela popped bread into the toaster and was spreading jam on a slice as she noted his quick entrance into the bathroom. She smiled. He had a morning hard on and she’d forgotten how urgently he would need to get up. Guess he really did need to be unchained without being sexually attacked first thing in the morning. Connor dressed hurriedly after exiting the bathroom. She watched his back as he crossed in front of her to restart the fire. He sure didn’t suggest they snuggle into the bed and restart that wonderful erection. She was pissed. For the first time in her life, a man, a hunk with a raging hard on to boot, had rebuffed her. In spite of her earlier denials, she wanted him this morning. He was not the man he pretended to be. In fact, he was more dangerous than all her boyfriends put together. Excitement and anger hit her at the same time. She’d been fooled, but royally. Different from any man she’d ever met, he was the man of her dreams and dangerous to the core. That realization jarred her. The River Goddess had fulfilled her part, delivering a werewolf to her. It would be up to her to gain that which she desired, a night in the arms of wolfman. But could he be tamed? Connor stood up, drawing her attention. Tired of the quiet between them, she snapped, “I think you owe me an explanation.” He didn’t respond. Apparently, he was trying to avoid a confrontation, but he didn’t know her relentless side. But she wasn’t about

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to give up. “Well?” She demanded. “I chain my hands together, so I can unlock them easily in the morning.” “That’s not what I meant.” She was curious though and asked, “What keeps you from unlocking yourself while you are a werewolf?” His shoulders tensed. “I lose almost all human memory once I’ve changed.” “Speaking of changing,” she drawled, “you still owe me an explanation.” Walking to the table, he said, “I’m a werewolf, as you discovered last night.” “And?” Connor’s gaze turned to the window. “ And I hope the blizzard clears up so I don’t have to put you in further danger.” Angela blew out a breath. “Right, end of story,” she snapped.” Those flinty eyes swung back to her and he smiled slightly. “That is all I can tell you.”

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Chapter Five

His face looked apologetic, but that wasn’t good enough. “You mean that is all you will tell me.” She faced him. His shoulders relaxed and a genuine smile crept over his sexy lips. “Look Angel, it’s going to be hard enough for you to live with this knowledge. It’s better for you not to know all my secrets.” She’d been startled for a second that he called her Angel, but the subject of their discussion was too important to get sidetracked right now. “Who said it would stay a secret?” The smile grew a bit larger. “You are a rational woman ... do you think anyone would believe you?” She shrugged. “Okay, but I want to know.” She walked to within a few feet of him. “Connor, you know I’m fascinated with legends.” Her hands waved in the air. “This is like discovering the Holy Grail or a leprechaun’s pot of gold.” He grinned. “Slightly different treasures.” His attempt at humor didn’t dissuade her. She touched his arm. “You’ve got to tell me.” Connor’s hand came up, as if he were going to stroke her face, but it dropped to his side and his face became serious. “No, I don’t. The less you know, the better.” He turned away and dropped four slices of bread into the toaster.

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“That’s not fair.” Angela hit the couch with her fist. “Life is often unfair.” He paused for a few seconds. “When I was a boy I frequently wished I was human.” Human? A little boy? Angela’s mind leaped. Had he been bitten while still young? Or was there something else here ... could werewolves be born as such? When she tried to query him with the same questions, he became withdrawn and refused to answer her. She knew he’d let slip the comment about the wishful boy and was not happy that he’d done so. After dodging her questions for several minutes, he grabbed his coat and went outside. Angela peered through the window. Snowdrifts everywhere. She could see Connor at the far side of the porch, staring off into the woods. Shrugging, she flopped on the couch and tried to read her book. After hours, she got worried about him. Did he leave? Could a were-man survive the cold in these woods? Opening the door, she was glad to see him sitting in a wicker chair. “Come back inside.” He is a stubborn mule. He refused to answer her questions, but neither did he let her push him around. Silence was his weapon. He turned. “No more questions?” “I promise.” Connor shook the snow from his coat and stood in front of the fireplace. It took several minutes for him to stop shivering. So much for the wolfman’s survival outdoors, at least in human form. “That fur you grew last night would have come in handy against the cold.” He flashed her a frustrated glance.

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Throwing up her hands, she laughed. “That wasn’t a question, just an observation.” Connor sat down on the couch and dialed the phone, speaking to the lodge manager in a low voice. “What did he say?” His distracted look swung to her. Clearly his thoughts had been elsewhere. “No break in the storm today.” Angela turned to stare into the fire, not sure if she considered that a blessing or not. They spent the rest of the morning reading books. She had her novel, but had an awful time trying to get into the vampire romance. For Pete’s sake, she had a real live werewolf sitting across from her! Connor buried his nose in a Stephen King novel. She laughed. He liked reading horror. He glanced up at her laughter, then returned to the book. The next minute she frowned. He wasn’t using his glasses to read. In fact, Connor hadn’t worn his specs since removing them last night. “The glasses are a ruse, right?” “What?” Her abrupt question jerked his attention from the novel. “I’m saying you use the glasses to help project the image of a nerdy guy.” He shrugged, but a smile lingered on his lips. Angela knew she’d guessed correctly. So, he was playing a Clark Kent role after all. Later, once lunch had been eaten, Angela was restless. She felt cooped up in this small cabin. Searching through a closet, she was thrilled

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to find several games. Connor readily agreed to play Monopoly. They played until suppertime and shared not only the joy of the game, but laughter as well. Connor was as charming as she’d first thought. They had stimulating conversations, as long as she didn’t delve into his personal history. They stopped when the sun began to go down and he helped her prepare hamburgers. He gulped down the food, his eyes flashing to the window constantly. Afterwards, he paced, then finally strode to the bed and stripped. Angela ran her eyes over his gorgeous male body. How she longed to touch it. His cock lay flaccid and as she put the manacles on him, he watched each click of the steel, sweat popping out on his brow. For a second she was insulted that he didn’t get an erection at her touching him, but then she realized Connor’s thoughts were centered on the change that was coming. He seemed to be concentrating on an inner voice. Perhaps he was closer to metamorphosis than she knew and fought it until he was secured. Crawling off the bed, she watched as the werewolf dramatically appeared. It was swifter than last night and she thought he had held back, but then let his control loose once the manacles were locked. As the wolfman thrashed and growled, she couldn’t help but notice he was less hairy and not as wolfine looking as yesterday. The moon must be waning. Angela sat in the recliner, keeping her eyes on his writhing figure. He was definitely less violent than last night and only howled once. She was still afraid, but it was not the bone-chilling fear of the previous night. She was startled to hear his voice. Blinking her eyes, Angela saw it was morning and Connor was calling her. He looked as yummy as ever, his member temptingly erect. Pausing at his right wrist, she turned and stared at

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those lovely, icy eyes. “Shame to waste such a nice hard on.”

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Chapter Six

He frowned. “You’re incorrigible.” She laughed. “I’ve been called worse.” “How about bold wench.” A grin popped out and a dimple appeared on his left cheek. “I like it.” She ran one finger down his chest while he worked on his left wrist. “Want to see how bold I can be?” Her voice deepened as her sexual need flamed inside. Those eyes roamed her face. Lust was clearly there, but also regret. “That would be dangerous.” Angela snorted and jumped off the bed. “What is it with you? Are you afraid to have sex with a woman who knows what she wants?” Sitting up, he ran one hand across his chin. The raspy sound shot through her and her nipples beaded. She wanted that roughness to slide across her flesh and torment her with its texture. “That’s not it ... I love assertive women.” “Then-“ He cut her off with a stern look. “Let’s just leave it alone.” Back to square one. No talking allowed about his wolf state and now sex. “You’ve got a nice sized cock, but baby, you aren’t any bigger than a few of my past boyfriends.” She waved at his groin. “You won’t hurt me

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with that bad boy.” His eyes flashed silver and a nerve in his jaw ticked. “Making love is not all that would be involved. Sometimes during sex we can change even without the moon’s influence ... unless.” He stopped, as if he realized he’d said too much already. What was he getting at? His last statement finally filtered through. They could change into werewolves during sex? Then what stopped them? He’d definitely left the most important part out with that dangling “unless”. “Unless?” she screeched. When he continued to ignore her outburst, she became more frustrated. Knowing he absolutely would refuse to explain that to her, she stomped over to the fireplace. She stared at the flames. Her insides flamed hotter than the fire, and Connor was keeping her in a state of want. Her nipples ached and her pussy throbbed. Something nudged at her mind, and then she remembered his statement about wishing he were human. Turning to face him, she caught his eyes. She wanted to gage his expression. “So ... you don’t have a thing for human women?” A quick flash of surprise and then his thoughts were shuttered. She was right. It wasn’t sex with her he disagreed with because he was attracted to her. Plus, he liked bold women ... he just didn’t like human women. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that wasn’t it either. Maybe it was physically impossible for the two to couple. Angela frowned. Hadn’t she just pointed out to him that his equipment looked normal enough, albeit big? Even when he changed into the werewolf, his cock had remained the same size. Was it the danger then that he kept mentioning? No, there was that unfinished “unless”. So, there was something that could keep him from

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changing during lovemaking, which seemed to be the key to sex. What was the key? She watched him read the book, or attempt to. Connor was aware of her perusal and kept glancing up. When their eyes met, a frisson of electricity leaped between them. She felt the chemistry between them and could tell Connor did too, although he seemed determined to ignore it. After a few minutes, Connor threw the book down and dialed the manager and in an irritated voice told her what he’d said after he hung up. The blizzard wasn’t expected to stop until later tonight. Snowplows would make their way to the lodge tomorrow. He called the University and left a message about being stranded, then handed the phone to her. Substitutes would have to teach their classes tomorrow. Angela wasn’t anxious to get back to work, not when she had a werewolf to probe. Especially not when she’d ached to fuck a man as bad as she ached for Connor. Maybe the storm would play in her favor, if only she could get past his resistance. “Do you want to play Monopoly?” He thumbed the novel, clearly finding to as hard to concentrate as she was. “I’d like to talk.” “Angel, I told you-“ “Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “First of all I’m not going to ask you about being a werewolf. Second, I’d like to know how you know my nickname?” He blushed, which Angela found surprising and charming. Clearing his throat, Connor replied, “Sorry, it just slipped out. I heard your sister call you that when she visited ... and it just stuck.” She laughed. “I’m no angel.” His gaze flitted over her face, then down her body. “Don’t I know it,”

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he muttered. “Then, you do think I’m attractive?” She hated that she had to ask that question, like some unsure teenager, but was determined to get to the bottom of his hesitancy with her. “I’d have to be blind not to.” Connor’s body was tense and he purposely turned from her and stared at the fire. “What did you want to talk about?” His tone indicated caution. “My favorite topic--legends.” When he turned back to look at her, she added, “You seemed to find it interesting the other day too.” “I do.”

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Chapter Seven

Connor stared at the lovely woman sitting across from him. While he did find legends intriguing, she fascinated him even more. Her quirky wit and feisty personality seemed well suited to her gorgeous body. His cock hardened as she spoke. It took all his self-control to keep from throwing her on the bed. The things he could do to her. Even in his human form he had superior strength compared to human males. He could last for hours. He knew how to artfully use his flexible tongue on wolfine partners, and was sure he could make Angel whimper for his touch. A raging fire hit his stomach and for a few seconds he considered following his desires. But an intense itching under his skin that occurred just before thick hair erupted from it, made him remember the moon’s influence. He couldn’t take such a chance even though he wanted Angel more than any woman in his life. Angel. Hardly right for such a ripe woman. Dark angel, or maybe fallen angel. She was hot and voluptuous, a temptress to every man and boy within range. Cool, bordering on cold, was her reaction to the masculine admiration she so often received. Miss Taylor’s reputation with her colleagues and the students was spotless, but everyone gossiped about her choice in men. She’d been seen riding with tough looking bikers on her off hours, and reports of her sexy

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dancing with musicians at clubs were oft repeated. He had dreamed of her on many nights. Longed for her lush, curvy body, naked and pressed against him. Fantasized about undoing the long braid she wore and loosing her thick, honey blonde hair. Dreamed of having her dark brown eyes stare at him boldly, begging for his touch. Connor bet her Angie Dickinson sexiness was real and that beneath her clothes, blonde hair grew between her slick thighs. Blonde hair and brown eyes--a rarity, just as she was. Angel was a woman who seemed to know what she wanted out of life and went after it. An exciting woman. A woman not afraid of danger or the unknown. Taking a deep breath, he tuned in on what she was saying. Losing control would only hurt them in the long run, even if his wolf side could be kept under control. Mating with humans was rare and he didn’t want to chance it. He already admired and liked this woman, to make love to her would involve his feelings more than he could take. Connor knew deep in his heart that if he let himself go with Angel, there’d be no turning back for him. Werewolves could couple, but once they made love the first time with their future mate, they knew it. Totally unlike humans who fell in love, then just as often fell out of love. Not so with his people. Once you found a soulmate, it was for life unless one partner died. It was far too risky to involve his heart when he already had strong feelings for her. And it would be unfair to Angel. Curse this storm! She was hard to resist, and grew more so with each passing hour. Angel had no fear of him, at least in human form, and he only had fuzzy memories of her sitting in a chair across from the bed while he was a

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werewolf. Glimmers of those hours shot through his blood and his cock pounded in response. Even then, he’d wanted her. Much of the violent thrashing had been an effort to free himself so he could have her. Thoughts of their two forms entwined, one sensually human, the other wolfine, set his heart racing. Connor groaned and Angel looked up. “Just a leg cramp,” he muttered and rubbed one calf. A delicate eyebrow lifted and he had the feeling she didn’t believe him. Picking up a magazine with a photo of a brilliant aqua ocean on the front, she tapped it and started a discussion about sea serpents. Did he think the Loch Ness Monster might be a descendant of some ancient ocean dinosaur? Fisting his hands and digging his nails in until blood seeped around his fingertips, and keeping his eyes off her sultry face, he managed to follow her conversation and replied without much thought. It was a subject he had conjectured on himself many times before. A flash at her thoughtful expression made his stomach roll. If only she were wolfine. She was everything he’d ever considered in a future mate--strong, beautiful, intelligent, with a sense of humor. Her love of legends only endeared her more to his heart. Add in her saucy attitude and love of adventure, and she was a woman without equal. If she had werewolf blood, he was sure they would have a chance of becoming soulmates. Everything about her screamed mate in his heart and blood. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” Connor jumped up feeling foolish that he’d spilled such an inane line, but he had to get away from her right now. “But the bathroom’s that way,” she laughed as he headed for the door.

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“I need fresh air,” he growled. He stayed outside a good thirty minutes, until his blood cooled and he got his thoughts under control. Angel gave him a smug look when he returned. Ignoring her, he picked up his novel. She knew him too well and his ruse hadn’t fooled her.

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Chapter Eight

She had seen Connor’s jaw clench and his eyes flash darkly just before he came up with his flimsy excuse for escaping outdoors. He wanted her. She knew lust when she saw it. For some reason he’d gotten turned on while they talked. Going back over their conversation, she could discern nothing that should have flamed his desire. Then it was her that did it. Connor was finding her harder to resist the longer they stayed together. Angel hugged her body. It was all she could do to keep from laughing merrily when Connor came back inside. Poor thing, he looked miserable. “How many more nights?” “What?” He shrugged out of his coat. “How many more nights of your werewolf form?” She’d purposely couched her first question in a confusing manner in order to draw his attention quickly. She wanted him to wonder what her thoughts were. “Tonight is the last.” “I see.” She flipped through her novel. “Our last night together.” “Yes.” He stared at her, searching her face. Let him wonder. He didn’t pursue her question. His restless pacing bespoke the change that was coming. She also knew from the way he avoided looking at her, he was also fighting his attraction to her.

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Later, as she watched the growling menace spread legged on the bed, Angela realized that this one man could fulfill all her fantasies. That is, if she could tame him. She chuckled as she slid out of her pants. How could she have once thought him a nerd when his very essence exuded raw male power? Because you were so determined to pigeon hole him, you ignored all your physical senses. Her blood had flamed when he was near and her eyes were drawn to his body. In spite of her own body’s response, her logical mind had refused to believe it. He was a nerdy professor and that was that. As Angela pulled the turtleneck sweater off, she knew this man would be easy to fall in love with. He was smart, sexy as hell, they shared many common interests, and he had an inapt charm she’d failed to see before. Most of all, he was more dangerous and masculine than all her rough boyfriends rolled into one. He was a werewolf. Now that she’d been around him a few days, she realized his dark side had barely been held in check. She’d seen glimpses of it in his hot, lustful glances, the rigid control of his body, and the deepening of his voice. She knew that in order to have a relationship with this fascinating man, she would have to prove they could couple without harming her. If they could do it while he was in the cusp of his wolfine thrall, then they could manage while he was in human form. Angela didn’t know why she was so sure of this fact, but felt it inside like a hidden knowledge that had just now made itself known. She wasn’t going to let her fear hold her back. Here was the man for her, the Mr. Right she had not been searching for, but who had crossed her path through happenstance. Though she’d always believed the “perfect” guy

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for her would come along one day, she’d not expected it this soon. She had so much living to do, so many exciting men to explore. Angela laughed softly. All other men paled when weighed against the magnificent legendary male lying helpless before her. She knew that he would wipe her need for further male companionship into oblivion. She wasn’t just attracted to his werewolf form, she found him equally exciting as a human. It pleased her that they thought alike on so many topics, and she really liked Connor’s personality too. Walking a few steps nearer, she finally drew his attention to her body. He’d been staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore her, though she knew he had to see her stripping. She examined him. The hair on his head was long and thick, as was the growth on his jaw. Running her eyes down his body, she shivered. He was the half man and half wolf creature she’d dreamed about; the heavy furring across his chest did not completely cover his skin. Even his legs were hairy, but human looking, not a fur-like growth. Angela stared at his cock, which was rigid and pulsating. She undid her bra, flinging it to the side and then held the weight of her breasts in each hand. Only then did she turn her eyes upward, catching his scorching silver gaze upon her. They looked like liquid metal, burning with hidden fire. Walking around the bedpost, she stood between his manacled arm and leg. She stroked her breasts and made the nipples peak. “I want you Connor,” she moaned. A slobbering growl and violent shaking of the chains was his response. Angela trembled with her need. She wanted him so badly, she felt like jumping on his spread-eagled body and spearing herself on his hard flesh. But she had to do this right.

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Turning her back, she hooked her fingers in the side of her thong and slowly pulled it over her butt, then bent over and shoved it down. It was a stripper move and meant to excite. The loud howl and clinking metal behind her told Angela she’d gotten the reaction she wanted. Kicking the thong to the side, she pivoted slowly, and then took a deep breath.

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Chapter Nine

His mouth was open wide, a grinning smile that highlighted the twoinch fangs. His arms and legs were taut, the muscles rippled as he strained against the chains. “Come,” he growled, and then in a gravelly voice screamed, “mate”. Had she gone too far? Too late to turn back now; her desire for him raged within her blood. It pounded through her nerve endings, sensations flicking not only through her groin and nipples, but her thighs, abdomen, and arms. Crawling on the bed carefully, she positioned herself between his spread thighs. Staring down at his engorged cock, she groaned and licked her lips. His body flinched as if her groan had been a whip lashng his skin. She ran her eyes up his handsome form. The raging inferno of his silver eyes made her tremble. However, as she stared, rationality seeped into them and she saw a glimmer of Connor reappear. “No,” he growled, then bit his lip with his fangs. The pain seemed to draw Connor nearer and his expression became more human. “Angel, too dangerous,” he panted. His body shook and then he snapped, “Stop”. “Connor, it’s too late for either of us.” She slid one hand between her lower lips, coated her fingers with her juices, and then waved one finger

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below his nose. “Can you smell my desire?” She knew how much wolves relied on scent and counted on Connor’s wolf nature to react. His eyes flashed and all semblance of humanity fled. His nostrils flared, his tongue snaked out and licked her finger. A rush of wetness soaked her inner thighs at his action. That tongue was long and thin, it had many possibilities as a tool of pleasure. Angela ached to shove her finger into his mouth, yet was afraid of his fangs. “More.” “Maybe later.” She moved up his body, positioning her breasts over his face, but far enough away he couldn’t bite her. “Wouldn’t you like an appetizer first?” She moved her chest, making her large breasts swing from side to side. In a flash, that long tongue lashed out and stroked one nipple. She gasped, surprised by his quickness, the fact that his tongue reached that far, and how good it felt. “Hmmm, more,” she whispered. He flicked her nipple again and she moaned. Angela closed her eyes, reveling in the aching need bursting inside her. When his tongue swirled around her hardened nub, she sighed and threw her head back, unconsciously shoving her breast closer to him. His tongue moved with quicksilver speed as he licked one nipple, then the other, going back and forth until she was groaning. “Oh, oh, oh,” she whimpered. Feeling inspired, she withdrew a few inches and he growled. Smiling, she held her breasts and squeezed them together. Leaning down, she offered them to Connor/wolfman. Grinning wolfishly, he slid his tongue around each nipple in

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succession. They were close, and it almost felt like they were being caressed at the same time. Her lower lips throbbed and she rocked gently against his hard flesh bumping into her bottom. She groaned as he licked her fingers as well as her breasts. A quiver of alarm ran through her as his hair thickened. Withdrawing her nipple swiftly, she said, “No more if you change.” He fought for self-control and won. Connor’s features became more human and he licked his lower lip, clearly an invitation for her return. Moaning, Angela edged downward. As quickly as it had first hit her, she was overcome with erotic sensations as he tongued her nipple.

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Chapter Ten

Angela’s fingers dug into her own flesh as the ecstasy built. His marvelous tongue circled one areola, clasping the skin tightly, then without warning he drew his tongue inward, causing her body to pitch forward. She stared in stunned disbelief. Her nipple and part of her breast were now in his hot mouth. A shudder hit her as fear shot through her. She wanted to say, “Don’t bite me,” but her lips were numb with terror. For some inane reason, she remembered her mother’s admonishments when she did bad things when she was young, “Those who play with fire ... ” She knew this time she’d created and stepped into an inferno. Keeping her flesh inside, he mouthed around it, “No hurt.” Then staring into her eyes, he began to suckle. Angela gasped and a rush of liquid coated his abdomen as her inner lips moistened in response. Fear hadn’t left her completely, but it was swiftly being overcome by a riot of heat building in her blood. Hot, wet, suction combined with fast flicks to her nipple, had her panting. Seeming to lose all reason, she pushed her flesh deeper into his mouth and moaned, “Oh, yes, suck it.” His body beneath her was fiery hot, his eyes metallic heat, and his tongue a demon with wicked skill. “Mmm.” Her hands, which had fallen to the side of his head, dug into the sheet.

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“Harder,” she screamed as a small orgasm flushed through her. He reacted with stronger pulls and she moaned loudly. When she took a deep breath and looked down, he was grinning around her nub. Only then did she realize he could have ripped her soft flesh to pieces, but instead had treated her as tenderly as any lover. “What now?” She was unsure, something she rarely experienced. Angela knew what she wanted, but didn’t know if she dared. Popping her breast out, his gravelly voice ground out, “More ... taste you.” Not much in the way of conversation, but for some reason she knew what he meant. He wanted to taste her feminine juices, and just the thought made her body flush with sensual heat. It took long seconds to reposition her body and she felt his eyes on her the whole time. She perched on his upper chest, her hands gripping the iron headboard for balance. As she spread her knees wide, Angela watched his eyes. The silver seemed to raze her moist inner lips as he stared at her swollen flesh. She’d never felt so vulnerable before and trembled, feeling like she could come again. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent. His gaze came up to hers as his tongue snaked out, unerringly touching her outer folds. She gasped and closed her eyes. The long tongue gently worked its way inward, seeking out her secrets. “Oh,” Angela moaned loudly as slow strokes caressed up and down. Her hands tightened on the cast iron and her legs trembled as his tongue slipped between her wet flesh, finding that special spot. Up and down, then round and round it swirled. She’d never been licked with such expertise. Moaning mindlessly, she rocked her butt gently, pushing slightly

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against his tongue. Connor’s tongue slid down and she whimpered when it lathed her entrance. Then, the next instant, he shoved it inside her. Angela whimpered again and then screamed, “Yes.” Tremors hit her body as his tongue delved in and out of her channel. Abruptly, it slipped out and flicked her nub, making her erupt into a body gripping orgasm. Angela screamed something unintelligible as the climax flushed through her throbbing flesh and his tongue never stopped its warm caresses. After the orgasm subsided, he gently licked her outer lips where it was less sensitive. Opening her eyes, she watched his ministrations and wiggled her hips as she moaned. Sighing deeply with satisfaction, she placed her hand in front of her mons. When his hot tongue stroked her fingers, she shuddered. “No more. Your turn.”

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Chapter Eleven

Her fingers received a last lick, then he looked up at her expectantly. His eyes never left her face as she slid down his body. She grasped his hard length, and then stroked the bulbous head with her tongue. At her touch his body jumped, but when she sucked his cock inside her mouth he quieted. After several suctioning movements up and down, she popped him out and stared at his face while she ran her tongue around the sensitive tip. He growled and his hair moved, as if each were individual parts. She stilled her swirling and whispered gently, “You must not change if you want me to continue.” His chest heaved as he took in several deep breaths and his eyes closed. She watched as his fangs pricked his lower lip as he fought for control, and then abruptly the thick hair on his head and chest began to thin. When Connor’s eyes fixed her with a silvery wash of heat, she dared a long stroke from the tip to the base of his cock. He remained calm, so she gently sucked one ball into her mouth, tonguing it while inside. His thighs trembled, but a quick glance upward confirmed he was still in control. Angela took all his length, giving it a deep suckling before checking his face again. Red-hot lust lashed her, but he remained half wolf, half human. Her clit beat erratically as she bobbed up and down on his firm flesh. How wonderful he tasted, like something earthy. He was primordial man.

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Her insides erupted in heat. She was a primordial woman at that moment, savage with lust and longing. A deep growl drew her from his cock. “Come. I want you. You want me.” It was not a question, nor an invitation, but a statement of fact. She did want him, badly. And the throbbing cock she clasped wanted her as well. His eyes were twins of his member, flashing with need and desire until they seemed to pulsate too. Angela crawled up his body, posing over his erection. Her wet lips teased him. Connor shook the chains, growled, and then thrust upward, entering and spearing her to the core. Her breath hissed out as he muttered something in a gravelly voice. Moaning, she rocked back and forth, reveling in his hardness. Firm velvet thrusting into wet silk. Bursts of pleasure shot through her at the sensation. “Oh, Connor, yes,” she whimpered, moving her hips faster. “Come here,” he commanded. She flashed him a confused look. She was here. Then she saw his eyes were fixed upon her breasts. She giggled, and then moved forward so her left breast swung in front of his mouth. That long tongue lashed out and she groaned as it flicked her nipple into a tight bud. She eased closer, sighing heavily as his hot mouth closed around the nub. She continued to rock slowly as he suckled on her aching flesh. Her inner lips ached as well, an orgasm was near, but she wasn’t there yet. Her hands glided over his chest, then over to his biceps. At each stroke his muscles tightened at her touch. She smiled, glad he enjoyed the

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softer side of their sexual encounter. Closing her eyes, she explored his body, enjoying the sensation of hard flesh covered with crisp hair. Angela breathed deeply, taking in his animalistic scent. She did not feel like a modern woman at that moment, but fiercely primitive. It was as if she made love to a cave man. Opening her eyes, she rocked gently as she watched his face. He possessed her, even though he was chained. She was his, captured by his male essence. He was all male, savage and magnificent. For the first time in her life, she felt totally feminine in a deeply vulnerable way. Her breast popped out of his mouth and she looked down. He captured her gaze, his need raw and edged with feelings she wasn’t quite sure she interpreted correctly. “Kiss,” he demanded in a deep voice. Angela couldn’t stop the flash of uncertainty in her face. “No hurt ... my Angel.” His voice was more clearly human, softened, almost a purr. She jerked slightly. He had used her nickname, even while in his half changed state. Examining his eyes, she was pleased by their clarity. Perhaps there was more Connor in his being than she thought. Still unsure, she eased downward, hovering above his mouth. She did want to kiss him. Kissing was more personal than simply fucking. Angela flinched inside. She wanted to get more personal with a werewolf? When he didn’t move or snake his tongue out, but simply stared into her eyes, she took a deep breath. Was this what she really wanted, to get closer to Connor/wolfman on a deeper level? Catching her by surprise, he plunged his cock deeper into her flesh.

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She sighed as tingles ran along her nerve endings. Biting her lower lip, she shifted on his erection, causing him to moan. Staring down at his full, delectable male lips, she realized he had not hurt the tender skin of her nipple. Not even a scrape. Her inner walls were slippery and glided back and forth with ease upon his cock. Her movements entwined with her thoughts of kissing him. She’d always got so much more turned on while kissing, and knew she’d regretted the lack of it during their lovemaking so far. As she lowered her face, feeling as though he pulled a string attached between them, all self-questioning fled. She wanted this, for whatever reason. When her lips touched his, she was lost.

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Chapter Twelve

Their kiss started out slow and gentle. She was moaning in seconds from the feel of his tongue against hers. He turned from gentle to demanding conqueror, as he drew on her lips with more force. Shards of pleasure flashed through her as their kiss deepened and she pushed downward on his cock to meet his upward thrusts. Angela moaned over and over into his mouth. She was unaware of anything but the sizzling connection of their flesh. She wanted all of him. His caress, his body, his soul--if she could. It was a madness of sorts that gripped her tightly, a temporary leave of her usual rational self. Sucking hard on his tongue, she sought a deeper contact she felt within every fiber of her being. Her thighs clenched as an orgasm burst through her flesh. When she panted, he caught her breath, as if it meant life itself to him. Connor wrenched loose from her lips and howled, his hips shoving with plunging force as he climaxed. Angela watched with both fascination and fear as his hair thickened and moved like wheat blown by the wind. While seconds blinked by, and she hazily wondered if she shouldn’t dismount from him, Connor’s features settled back into a less wolfish appearance. Next, his hair calmed into its half wolf state. Angela’s heart slowed toward normal as he relaxed. They stared at one another and his eyes gleamed with something. Was that satisfaction?

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Sure, he should be satisfied sexually, but she got the feeling it was a different kind of emotion. Feeling awkward, something unusual for her, Angela eased off his body. The bathroom suddenly looked like a safe haven and she walked quickly inside without looking back. She took a long, hot bath, numbing her mind. After she entered the room again, she let out a breath of relief--he was sound asleep. The next instant she thought typical man. Slipping into her robe, and then cuddling into the chair, she blew out her breath again. Typical? That was not true and unfair. Connor was far from typical land he had more than the normal reason to sleep after sex. She knew from his previous metamorphosis that it was an exhausting process. Why are you being so silly? She didn’t know how to answer herself. She’d tried to escape her thoughts in the bathroom, but they kept pushing for existence. Why did she feel frustrated at the sleeping Connor? She just had the best sex ever, she should be feeling happy and not begrudge him rest. Oh, part of her was very happy, giddy in fact, yet part was disgruntled. Not normally a grumbler in the sex department, especially if the sex was great, Angela was confused. What the hell is wrong with you? She stared at his slumbering form and then it hit her; she wanted to be curled up by his side. She wanted him to whisper lover’s talk while she cuddled in his arms. Angela shivered. Really, what is wrong with me? She’d never really cared if a man played the sweet lover afterward. Sex was enjoyed for what it was--a wild, wonderful release. Then why Connor? If she wanted him to embrace her, why had she

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run for cover in the bathroom? Her mind spun and she faced her own escalating feelings. Why this confusion? Because she felt differently about Connor. He was unlike any man she’d ever dated, but that wasn’t quite it either. He evoked new sensations in her ... joy, girlish rapture, a wish to be around him more, and pleasure simply from conversing with him. Also there was the cuddling. She desired his arms about her, to feel enveloped by his essence. Angela clutched the crochet lap robe. Was this love? She’d never been in that state before. Her cheeks heated. Was this what she wanted? She wasn’t sure, but she stared at Connor’s still form. The sudden thought of going back to work and living her carefree life, one without him, caused a flash of sadness. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she faced the truth. She did love him. Angela, who had never run from anything in her life, was hit with uncertainty to her core. Love? This was a new game, one she was unfamiliar with. What would it ask of her? Of her soul? Her freedom? Connor stretched, shaking the chains, and her eyes flashed to his body. Did he feel the same way? Would he laugh at her? Reject her? Fear raced through her blood. She was queasy. Maybe it would be safer to retreat into her sexy veneer of a woman with an appetite for a variety of male company.

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Chapter Thirteen

The chains rattled as he stretched. Connor felt wonderful, no after effects of his metamorphosis ravaged his body this morning. He was usually refreshed when the moon waned, but it wasn’t just that. A soft sigh drew his attention. Angel. Memory flooded his mind. He’d lost little recall as was normal on the last night of his change. His already rigid cock throbbed with that memory. Luscious Angel taking him on a sensual journey he’d never forget. Her delicious scent, the sight of her full curves, pink flesh, and the stroke of her skilled hands all came rushing back. He groaned. “Connor, you’re awake.” She slipped out of the blanket cocooning her body, came quietly to his side and began unlocking his wrist. She was gorgeous and nude, yet her eyes were downcast. Her appearance seemed in conflict with her attitude. Where is my bold Angel? He had expected her perusal of his raging hard on and a saucy comment, instead she acted as sedately as a schoolgirl. “Thank you.” He jumped up and strode swiftly to the bathroom. After he finished, he stared unseeing into the mirror as he tried to fathom Angel’s behavior. Realization hit him from another direction and his knees weakened. He sat on the cold tub rim, running his hands through his hair. He was more

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confused than ever. He had avoided Angela in the first place because of the inherent danger. Nevertheless, they had sex last night, a wild, very fulfilling experience. It really happened! Connor’s hands stilled. She wasn’t wolfine, yet they had made love. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on scenes from their sexual romp. He remembered the wolf overtaking his body and losing the crystal clear contact with his human side. A scene flashed. Angel straddled him, her breasts swinging enticingly over his mouth and admonished him not to change or he wouldn’t get the pleasure of suckling her flesh. Not only had he obeyed her and not metamorphosed into his full-fledged werewolf form, he had retreated backward, becoming more human. His body became rigid. Stunned. She had controlled his animalistic side, and she was human. That could only mean one thing--Angel was his soulmate. Pure joy shot through him, until he trembled in reaction. The next instant reality hit. Angel was human, which meant she would not automatically feel the connection as a wolfine partner would. His happiness was gone as quickly as it’d come. What did she feel, if anything? He was sure she was sexually satisfied. Anger boiled. She had her way with him, and now he was sure she would leave him without any qualms, on the look out for the next conquest. Frustration and a sense of loss joined his anger. What right did she have to play with his feelings? The next instant Connor was flushed with guilt. Angel didn’t understand. She had asked about their society, but he’d refused to tell her

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anything. Maybe if he’d told her ... yes, he was sure a woman of the world like her wouldn’t want to be burdened with a man madly in love with her. Standing up, he took a deep breath. He would have to face the consequences of her actions. She was guiltless because she did not understand werewolf physiques and society. Then why did he still feel anger lancing through his system, as if he wanted to punish her for making him love her? **** Angela watched Connor warily after he came out of the bathroom, unsure how he’d act after last night. Nothing could have prepared her for the man who approached her. He was magnificently nude and strode towards her with a stony expression. His eyes flashed and for a second she thought the wolf was alive behind those silvery orbs. Connor stopped in front of her and folded his arms. “What now Angela?” She flinched. He sounded accusatory and his use of her proper name made her uncomfortable. “Wha ... what do you mean?” Connor walked a foot closer and she backed up a step. His presence was overwhelming. “Do you know what you’ve done?” His tone was bitter.

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Chapter Fourteen

“Made love to a werewolf.” Her attempt at humor fell flat. Anger flashed behind those metal hued eyes and she did wonder what she’d done to upset him so. “We werewolves have a tradition ... that when we find our soulmate, we know it immediately after making love the first time. A bonding." “What are you getting at Connor?” Now she was really mad. He seemed to be blaming her for something. Although realization nudged her mind, she ignored it. He took another step and grasped her arms. “You are my soulmate woman. Damn you for being human.” His voice deepened and his hair grew thicker. A sense of danger permeated the air. “Connor, you are losing control.” “You made me lose myself in you last night.” Shivers ran down her back as fear raced through her, but Angela knew she had to address his earlier remarks. “Why are you cursing me for being human? And how can you be sure I’m your soulmate?” “Because humans have a poor record when it comes to true love, and a match between human and werewolf is rare.” His nostrils flared as he took in her scent and his canines grew until they pricked his lower lip. “I know you are my woman. I cannot explain it, just as I’m sure you will consider me but another conquest.”

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His voice had deepened to a gravelly quality until his words were barely recognizable. Angela’s temper ignited at his statement. His woman! He judged her without really knowing how she felt. She was ready to lash out at him, but saw that he really was on the verge of losing control. Each second that ticked by his muscles rippled and more hair sprouted. The air was saturated with a musky odor. He looked as dangerous as he had the first night of transforming into a wolfman. It struck her too, that she really was his woman. Hadn’t she acknowledged her love for him last night to herself? Just as she had some minute knowledge of how to handle him during their lovemaking, Angela knew what she had to do. “I am your woman.” Her words were soft and he jerked as if she had slapped him. “Mine,” he growled. “Yes,” she whispered and stroked his chest. “I realized last night that I love you.” His eyes cleared a little and the werewolf change halted. “My soulmate?” His deeply possessive, growling voice made her shiver. “Yes.” She gasped when he pulled her into his arms swiftly, then took her lips in a kiss that seared her flesh. Angela trembled and stared into his eyes as they kissed, fearful he would change completely. He was so emotional this morning, she didn’t know if he could maintain control. Relief hit her when Connor crept back as the seconds passed.

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Pushing back from his arms, she asked, “Connor?” He grinned. His face was completely human once more, except for a heavy two-day growth on his jaw. “It’s me.” Taking a shaky breath, she exhaled quickly. “You frightened me ... for a second I thought you were going to change into a werewolf.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “For a space I felt out of control, but I know that I would never hurt you Angel. I want you to believe that.” She smiled slightly. “I do ... but I’m still getting used to your changes and moods.” He laughed hard and then gave her a quick peck . “Only a werewolf’s soulmate can control him or her, and keep them from changing completely.” “I did that, didn’t I?” she asked with a bemused voice. “Yes, you did. I think you like to be in control.” His eyes flashed and for a second the wolf crept back. “Not always.” She clenched her jaw to keep from giggling. “One thing you must learn about our kind, the male is Alpha.” “I know.” She smiled and ran her fingers over his biceps. “I’ve got a thing for Alpha males, if you remember.” He nodded. “I’ve just never found anyone Alpha enough for me. I’ve gotten tastes of it, and yearned for it ... but until last night I didn’t know how much I wanted it.” “Well, now you’ve found a man possessive and dominant enough for you.” It was a statement and brooked no argument. Angela wanted to tell him that she didn’t liked to be bossed around, if that’s what he meant, but then he pulled her into his embrace hard, squashing her breasts against his

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firm chest. His kiss demanded her surrender and she did, moaning beneath his forceful onslaught. When he withdrew a few minutes later, she was glad his arms were around her, for her legs felt like jelly. The wild, untamed look was back on his face, making her tremble. She felt so vulnerable, utterly feminine, and overwhelmingly loved. He was possessive and dominant, and she realized she did like those qualities in him. “Now,” he paused dramatically. “I think it’s time you see what it means to let yourself go completely, to not be in control.”

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Chapter Fifteen

She stared at him, not knowing what he had in mind, but anticipating it eagerly. Drowning in the liquid fire of his eyes, her insides grew warm and her inner lips moist. He picked her up abruptly and easily. Angela clung to his neck as he strode toward the bed. He was so powerful and she marveled at how feminine she felt in his arms. After Connor laid her gently on the soft comforter, he clamped a heavy manacle around one wrist. Angela lurched upward. It didn’t hurt, but she didn’t know if she’d like being trussed up and helpless. “Wait, Connor.” Grinning, he ignored her and secured her other wrist, and then moved to her ankles. Her mouth went dry as she looked down at herself, spreadeagled and vulnerable. Connor crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between her splayed thighs. His beautiful silver eyes ran up her body, lashing it with their heat. Tremors flushed through her, while her sensitive inner lips became soaked, He caught her eyes with his and held them with inhuman force. As he stared and she tried to remember to breath, he changed slightly. Connor, the wolfman, slowly appeared. Angela bucked and screamed when the first stroke of his tongue slid across her wet flesh. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to his caresses.

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Love and lust became mingled into a maelstrom of sensations. Before her mind lost rationality and her body took over completely, she had a searing insight. She had thought to tame a werewolf, but in reality it was she who was tamed.

The End