Page 17 of Witch's Moon
He stood before her naked, and, for a brief moment, the creature inside her stilled as the woman took over. She stared at him. He wasn’t aroused, but as she watched, his cock twitched and pulsed.
He groaned. “This really isn’t the time for that either.” His voice was gentle, but at his words, the beast rose up and clawed at her insides.
She whirled away, tore at her own clothes, and in seconds, she stood naked in front of him. His gaze flickered down over her body, and her skin burned hotter. The rain was coming harder now, but no longer cooled the burning heat.
Shooting pains speared through her body. She was losing control, and she hated that. She couldn’t afford to lose control. Her breath came in short, hard gasps, and she forced herself to slow it. She remembered Ethan changing. It had appeared so painless, so easy. There must be something wrong, and she fought frantically against the agony that threatened to consume her mind and body. But Caleb didn’t seem in pain, instead his hard face was stamped with excitement, and his eyes no longer appeared human, the pupils dilated.
“What must I do?” she asked.
“Relax. It only hurts because you’re fighting it. This is magic, let it flow through you.”
Well. She knew all about magic. She held herself immobile, closed her eyes, and the power welled up inside her.
“Good girl.”
Regan heard the murmured words and almost smiled. It was a long time since anyone had dared call her a girl, but then all thoughts were wiped from her mind as the magic took over, and the creature within her roared to be free. For a moment, she held it at bay. She opened her eyes. Caleb stood before her and then he was gone, and in his place stood a huge, black wolf, with deep-blue eyes. He raised his head to the sky and howled.
Regan relaxed her mind and let the magic overwhelm her.
The world was changed. She twisted her head and stared at the rich, dark-red fur that covered her back. She lifted each paw in turn, placing it down with exaggerated care, digging her sharp claws into the soft earth.
She looked around her. Everything was sharply defined. Her ears swiveled to pick up the sound of the wind in the treetops above her, and somewhere far off an owl hooted. She opened her mouth and tasted the rain on her tongue. The scents of the night filled her nostrils, the damp air, leaf mold, the musky aroma of wolf. Her muzzle twitched, and she searched the clearing. He was standing, watching her from his dark wolf’s eyes, his black plumed tail waving. He caught her gaze, yipped once, then turned and headed into the trees.
She ran through the dark forest, the pads of her paws making no sound on the soft leaf-littered floor. Effortlessly, she weaved her way between the gnarled trunks of the oaks, chasing the sable wolf. As the trees thinned, she picked up speed, running ever faster, until she was aware of nothing but the wind flowing past her. All her tension, the restlessness that had plagued her for so long, fell away beneath the relentless stretch and release of muscle and sinew. A wild exhilaration filled her. She didn’t falter as she reached the edge of the forest, and she was racing out in the open under the full moon.
Without warning, a huge form slammed into her from the side, crashing her to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs. She rolled, then jumped to her feet, shook herself, a growl rising up in her throat.
The black wolf faced her, hackles raised. When he saw he had her attention he growled softly then looked back toward the dark shadows of the forest. She knew he wanted her to return to safety, but she didn’t want safety. For the first time in so long, she was wildly alive, filled with joy. Laughter bubbled up in her mind but could find no release, and she sank to her haunches, threw back her head, and howled.
When she opened her eyes, dappled daylight filtered through the forest canopy. Regan lay curled up on a bed of leaves under the shelter of a deep overhanging rock. Beyond the rock’s edge, the rain fell steadily, and she could hear each drop as it splashed against leaves and stones. She breathed in the musky scent of wild garlic that grew nearby, the loamy smell of the rich damp earth. All her senses were acutely alert; she felt more alive than she had for a long, long time, as though she’d been experiencing the world through a veil, and now she had ripped it away. Or rather, wolf had ripped it away. At the thought, her wolf stirred sleepily, sated and content, but still present.
For a minute, Regan lay quiet, her eyes tracing the patterns on the rock’s surface above her. She was back in her own body, she was no longer wolf, and a faint flicker of regret ran through her mind.
She’d been thinking of wolf as some sort of alien creature, taking her over, but it hadn’t been like that at all. The wolf was part of her, perhaps had always been part of her, lying dormant, lurking in her subconscious, waiting for something to set her free.
But wolf couldn’t be allowed her freedom. Regan remembered clearly the loss of control the night before, and she was too powerful to ever lose control.
She was naked, but despite the rain, she felt warm and cozy, probably because she was snuggled in the arms of a large, equally naked man. Caleb lay behind her, his body pressed along the whole length of her back, hard and hot. One hair-roughened leg was thrown across hers and one muscular arm wrapped around her. She glanced down, her gaze captured by the sight of his huge hand cupping her breast, his skin dark against her paleness. His fingers were long, sprinkled with short black hair. As she watched, they tightened on her, sending a spasm of intense pleasure shooting from her breast to her belly, then lower, so she squirmed against him.
His breathing was even, and she relaxed. She knew she should slip away now while he slept, but instead she lay in his arms and listened to the rain. It had been centuries since she’d lain in a man’s arms like this.
She shifted against him, restless, and the small movement must have woken him. His hand tightened again, then relaxed, and he slowly rubbed his palm over her nipple. It stiffened under his touch, and a wave of heat rolled over her, settling in the pit of her stomach.
His breath feathered against the skin along the back of her neck, and a shiver ran through her. He nibbled at the sensitive spot where her throat met her shoulder—small teasing bites that stoked the fire already burning inside her.
As Regan pressed herself back into his body, the heat of his hard shaft nudged at the cleft in her bottom, and a sharp stab of satisfaction knifed through her. She wriggled against him, and he bit down harder. At the same time, his long fingers tugged at the tight peaks of her breasts until she was writhing against him, held in place by his thigh thrown across her own.
His other hand slid over her flat belly, his fingers drifting through the curls at the base, to where her thighs clenched tight together. He lowered his leg to give him better access.
“Open your legs for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear. His voice was low, husky, a caress in itself, and tremors rippled through her. For a moment, she fought the feelings, but they were too strong.
Just this once, she told herself.
The last week had been fraught—the loss of her magic combined with the constant thought of the wolf lurking at the back of her mind. Now the relief that it was over, that she had come through it, if not unchanged, then at least unharmed, urged her to some sort of consummation. She wanted this as a celebration of life. It felt right.
She bent one knee, allowing his hand to slide between her thighs. His fingers slipped inside the folds of her sex, and he sighed his satisfaction against her skin as he found her already hot and wet.
She moaned softly as he drew back his hand. He turned her so she lay on her back and then came up on one elbow and stared down into her face, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light.
He brushed her hair away, then leaned down and kissed her.
