Wolf Slayer Page 8

  “You didn’t stay in the human world?”

  “Not then. I made my way in the wolf world first. I learned how to be a wolf before I found out how to be a man. When he released me, I was too old to be accepted into another pack, so I stayed on my own. Eventually, I decided my human instincts were my strongest driving force. That was when I made my way south. It was tough at first. I had no experience of being a human, and it took time to integrate. But werewolves are fast learners. I spent time observing humans before I joined them. When I was ready, I became the person you see today.”

  “You were so brave.” Maria tilted her head so she could look at him in the half-light. “But also so lonely.”

  When his lips came down on hers it was a turning point. The tender kisses they had shared were a memory, a prelude to this moment. Madden’s lips devoured hers. His tongue swept into her mouth and claimed it as though it had been made for his caresses. And maybe that was true. Maybe her whole life had been building up to this moment.

  She gave a soft moan as fierce sensations tore through her body. His lips and tongue demanded and she gave him everything. One hand moved to splay against her lower back, bringing her in closer contact with his body and she pressed tighter against him.

  “You’re injured.” It was a regretful murmur against the soft flesh of her neck.

  “Madden—” He lifted his head at the demanding note in her voice. “I’m not going to let him take this from me. I don’t want you to hold back because you’re scared of hurting me. I want all of you.”

  He scanned her face in the gloom and what he saw must have convinced him. Slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, he undid the buttons of her blouse. Sliding the garment from her shoulders, he let it slip to the floor before unfastening her bra and sending it in the same direction. Then he bent his head and very gently licked the tip of one pale pink nipple. The sensation was so delicious that Maria didn’t move. She couldn’t. She was frozen in place as a riot of wild sensation ricocheted through her.

  Madden cupped his hand beneath her breast, lifting it to his mouth as he lowered his head again, this time taking the whole of her left nipple between his lips and sucking it. How was it possible for his tongue to feel so soft and yet to rasp against her flesh? Maria’s head fell back against the cushions as she gave a moan of complete surrender. Madden moved to place his hands behind her, supporting her with his palms flat against her shoulder blades to prevent her from falling backward.

  Every part of her ached, quivered, and needed his touch. Her lips tingled, her hardened nipples throbbed, and deep inside her sex, spreading upward and outward was a burning, thrumming, maddening sensation that made her want to cry out. At the same time, she wanted to dig her teeth into the smooth flesh of Madden’s shoulders and hurt him until he was the one who called out.

  Maria gave a soft, regretful moan as Madden moved away from her. When he knelt on the floor beside the bench and removed her boots, socks, and jeans, the protest turned to a murmur of approval. As her underwear was cast aside and he held her knees apart, she wondered if it might actually be possible to climax from anticipation. That, or the look in Madden’s eyes as he gazed up at her.

  “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

  She was breathing too hard and fast to find the words to explain that he already did make her feel good. That just knowing he wanted her took her breath away and sent fingers of fire racing over the surface of her skin.

  “Please . . .” That single word was all she could manage to utter. Lifting her hips, she brought her sex closer to his mouth, signaling exactly what she wanted from him. What she needed from him.

  Madden didn’t disappoint her. Positioning himself between her thighs, he bent his head, brushing his lips along the seam of her sex in a caress as gentle and intimate as a kiss. There was nothing gentle about the blistering, intense pleasure that stabbed at Maria’s core in response. Sensation exploded across every nerve ending, sending white-hot arcs of molten heat sizzling across her body.

  Madden’s tongue made slow, lazy movements, sweeping over her in long strokes, pausing to flick her throbbing clit until she was squirming wildly. Her hands, useless in their bulky bandages made clawing movements in the air. Lifting his head to briefly smile at her, he resumed his tantalizing exploration. Licking just inside her vagina, he drew back before driving his tongue deep inside her in a hard, stabbing movement. Maria gasped out his name. Then her voice became a ragged cry as he did it again. And again. Within minutes a red-hot climax was crashing through her. Her back arched away from the cushions, and she cried out, shaking all over as color and light exploded behind her eyelids.

  Madden moved higher, kissing her breasts, transferring her own juices from his mouth to her flesh. She was vaguely aware of him unzipping his jeans, and she heard a condom wrapper opening. Then he was pushing her thighs wider with his hips as he positioned himself. As she felt him pushing against her, Maria’s still-spasming muscles tightened around the hot, bulging head of his cock.

  The return of his lips to hers brought her own essence on his breath and tongue, and she shuddered at the erotic thrill of it. His cock was huge, thick, and iron-hard. Maria gasped at the sensation of him stretching her inch by inch. Madden groaned as he shifted his hips. She knew he was trying to hold back, to take things slowly, but she was already wet and aroused. As she lifted her hips to meet him, he drove his whole shaft straight in. Long, hard, deep, and so wonderful that she cried out in ecstasy.

  As her body bucked and writhed against him, he began thrusting in and out of her with such force that she wanted to throw back her head and scream from both pleasure and exquisite torture. It was only Madden’s lips on hers that stopped her. He gripped her hips as he fucked her so hard that her body slammed up against the gazebo wall. When he picked up the pace even further, Maria wrapped her legs around his waist, clenching her muscles in time with his thrusts to draw him as deep as she could. Whatever he gave her, she wanted more. As he rammed himself wildly in and out of her, the exquisite friction heating her insides to the point where she was melting into him, merging with him.

  “Too much.” Her voice was somewhere between a gasp and a sob. “But don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

  In response, Madden reached beneath her to grip her buttocks, lifting her so he could open her further, bringing her in closer contact with his grinding pelvis. A tormented groan escaped her, and his thrusts became frantic, pushing them both further and harder. He guided her relentlessly on, claiming her, carrying her toward another climax. Drawing her into that perfect storm in which every cell in her body sizzled. This time when she came, her muscles gripped his cock, intensifying the pleasure so much that she saw stars—whole dazzling galaxies of them, exploding in the darkness behind her closed eyelids. On and on, as Madden continued to slam into her, using each forceful thrust to keep her quivering at the point of ecstasy.

  Finally, she felt Madden’s cock jerk deep within her as he cried out with his own release. When he shuddered to a standstill, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard. Maria relaxed her legs, allowing him to withdraw. Floating down from her cloud of ecstasy, she wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing her cheek against his, delighting in the feel of his stubble against her flesh.

  “Is that a werewolf thing?”

  His voice was amused. “Which part?”

  “The amazingness.”

  “I think that was just us.”

  She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Can we do it again to find out?”

  “Right now?” That beautiful mouth of his curved into a smile as he glanced down at his cock. “I’m immortal, Maria, not superhuman.” He scooped up her clothes and handed them over. “Maybe we should head back to your room. That will give me enough time to recover my strength.”

  “I should warn you now”—she started to scrabble into her clothes, annoyed at the way her damaged hands slowed her down—“I’m a quick dresser . . . and I can run fast.”

/>   Chapter Eight

  Madden left Maria sleeping and made his way down to the kitchen in search of breakfast. He needed to wipe the satisfied smile off his face and get back into business mode fast. Last night had been amazing. Maria was incredible. But he had a killer to catch.

  It was still early and no one was around when he reached the kitchen. Glad of some thinking time, he grabbed a vacuum pack of caribou steak from the fridge. Cutting it open, he sliced it thinly and, standing at the counter, ate the bloody meat raw from the pack. Having washed his breakfast down with a bottle of water, he went to the window, looking out at the gardens with unseeing eyes.

  Although his mind should be on the Cage Killer and the fact that none of the new information Maria brought to the case was leading him any closer to the killer, his thoughts refused to cooperate. His mind stayed stubbornly on Maria. Sex with her had been everything he had dreamed it would be. More than he had dreamed it would be. His body thrummed at the memory. His erection was making a serious case for getting back up those stairs and into bed with her again. He resisted it. Once he held her in his arms, he wouldn’t be able to think straight. He wasn’t sure he could do it now.

  During all his years as a cop, Madden had never been tempted to get involved with a witness or a colleague. He wasn’t a vain man, but he had a mirror. He also knew what other people said about his looks. He’d had enough come-ons from women in his time to know he was attractive. That didn’t mean he had to do anything about it. It certainly didn’t mean he was going to jeopardize his job over a woman. But that was exactly what he was doing now. Maria was the victim of a horrible crime. She was a witness in the case on which Madden was the lead officer. She was under his protection. She was alone, everything she had been through made her appear vulnerable—although she was also possibly the strongest person he had ever met—and she trusted him to do the right thing. Yet all he could think about was the next time he could get her alone so he could get her to make that sweet little gurgling noise she made each time she came around his cock.

  The guilty feelings he was experiencing weren’t even about his job. I should be watching out for her, caring for her, making sure she gets over the trauma of her ordeal. Not fucking her senseless. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Instantly, he had a hard-on like an iron girder at the thought of fucking Maria senseless.

  But there was so much more distance between them than that of his job and his role in her recovery. There was her newly discovered werewolf status. She needed to be nurtured through that. She didn’t need some hulking great Arctic werewolf steaming into her life and claiming her the instant she discovered who she really was. I haven’t claimed her. We’ve had sex as humans, not werewolves. We would only be mated for life if we have sex as werewolves. And she doesn’t even know if she can shift. Telling himself that didn’t help. It sounded like the feeblest set of excuses ever made. He had hardly given her time in which to adjust to her new life.

  So back off. Tell her last night was a one-off.

  He almost snorted out loud with laughter. A one-off? He had a feeling it would be easier to give up breathing than it would be to give up sex with Maria. And there was Maria herself to consider in all of this. Without being boastful, Madden knew she had enjoyed herself last night as much as he had. She had told him so. Over and over. She had screamed it in ecstasy and whispered it as they fell asleep. He anticipated that determined look might appear on her face if he suggested they cool things down a bit.

  Because they both knew this was about more than sex. Maria might be a rookie when it came to the werewolf world. Her induction might have been abrupt and incomplete, but Madden knew how these things worked. Scary as it seemed, he knew exactly what happened when a werewolf found its mate. His thoughts were interrupted when Valetta came into the kitchen. Since Samson was staying at Lowell’s house while he was taking care of Maria’s security, Valetta grabbed every chance she could to abandon their luxury apartment and spend her nights here with her husband. Madden wasn’t surprised to see her. What did surprise him was that she was dressed in jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers instead of her usual office attire.

  “Working from home?” he asked as she headed for the coffee machine.

  “No. I have to get to my dad’s place.” Her expression was worried. “I got a message from Cindy to say he’s gone missing.”

  A cold feeling hit Madden low in his stomach and he did his best to hide it from Valetta. “Hendrik’s gone missing? What does that mean exactly?”

  “I’m not sure. Cindy was distressed when she called me, so the details were hard to catch. He left yesterday afternoon for a meeting with an art consultant. As far as I could make out, that was the last time Cindy saw him. He didn’t return home after that.”

  Art consultant. Art gallery. The house where Maria had been held was built by an artist, David Barnes ran a coffee shop in the art district . . . Art. They hadn’t made any connections between the Cage Killer victims. Until the one Madden was making right this minute.

  Madden tried to get a grip on the thoughts that were trying to fly off in all directions. This could be nothing. There could be a dozen explanations for why Hendrik hadn’t returned from his meeting. Valetta might get to her father’s house and find he’d spent a night in his car after having a flat tire on a remote road with no cell phone signal. The leaden feeling in his gut refused to give way, refused to allow any room for optimism.

  Apparently Valetta didn’t view Hendrik’s disappearance as nothing either. She gulped down a cup of coffee and snatched up her car keys.

  Her voice was nervous as she turned to Madden. “Will you come with me?”

  * * *

  Maria slept late. When she woke, her whole body felt warm and sated. She checked the pillow next to her and felt a pang of disappointment when she discovered it was empty. Madden had work to do. Important work. It was selfish to imagine that he could spend all day in bed with her. Selfish, but oh, what a wonderful fantasy that would be. She allowed herself a few minutes to indulge in that image and then, sighing, she kicked the bedding aside and made her way to the bathroom.

  Her reflection in the mirror was beginning to look more the way it used to. The bruises were fading, the cuts healing. The stubble covering her head was thickening. A nurse was coming later that day to change the dressings on her hands. Hopefully, these bulky bandages would be removed and she would have more freedom.

  Showering was a pleasure she had dreamed of in the dark hours of her captivity. Warm water, scented lather, clean, moisturized skin. All of those were things she had thought she might never feel again. Now she tilted her head back and let the jets caress her flesh as she wondered how much Madden’s presence had contributed to her recovery.

  Before she had been discharged from hospital, there had been a lengthy three-way conversation about counseling between Madden, as the police representative, a senior doctor from the staff at the Anchorage hospital, and Maria herself. There had been a consensus that she would need intensive and lengthy support. The only issue under discussion had been who would provide it, and what the timelines would be. Madden had thought that a police psychologist would be the best person to provide the sort of therapy Maria would require. The doctor had been skeptical, suggesting that a more bespoke service might be necessary. Maria herself had remained mostly silent, acquiescing to the opinions of the experts.

  Now, she knew exactly what she needed to aid her recovery. Sheet-ripping, toe-curling sex with a werewolf. She gave a snort of laughter. Did I just think that? Did it actually happen to me last night? The faint echo within her body, the one that told her it had recently been thrumming in the throes of intense orgasm provided the answer to her own question.

  She was fairly sure Madden would approve of the prescribed cure. The doctor? Maybe not so much. She didn’t care. It’s my screwed-up head. I’ll fix it any way I choose.

  And talking about screwed up . . .

  She stepped out of the shower and w
rapped herself in one of the luxurious fluffy towels the Lowell family had in abundance. It still knocked her sideways that her hosts were werewolves. That the man in whose arms she had fallen asleep last night was also a shifter. But none of those things bothered her as much as the thought that she was one of them.

  It would be so much easier if they did classes in this stuff. If I could sign up and learn how to do all the things they already know. Because it was no good turning her back on this. Those test results weren’t going away. She was a werewolf.

  And somehow that stark, strange fact made sense. It answered a few questions that, until now, Maria had never known existed in her life. She had always put that sense of separateness from other people down to not knowing who her real parents were and to the strange start she had in life. Although her adoptive parents had tried hard to make it up to her, the knowledge that she had been abandoned as a baby had always been with her, tugging away at her psyche. She had believed that was what colored her relationships with other people. She had put her reserve, her almost intense shyness, and her reluctance to get too close down to a fear of being deserted again.

  She had never really felt she belonged anywhere. Not even, if she was honest, with her parents. Even though she had loved them very much and appreciated all they did for her, Maria had always felt out of place in their family. Her brother, Caspar, hadn’t helped with the feeling. His resentment of her had led him to tell her at every available opportunity that she wasn’t wanted, that she was a stranger within the only family she had ever known. Now she knew the truth.

  I wasn’t the fish out of water I’d always believed myself to be. I was an Arctic werewolf away from the midnight sun.

  Since arriving at the Lowell’s house, she felt, for the first time ever, that she belonged. The substance had been ripped out of her life by an evil killer, yet she felt more at home with these people than she had at any point prior to this. Because I am one of them. But I don’t know how to do it properly. I don’t know how to find the wolf that exists inside me. I don’t know how to shift. I have no idea where to start.