They were quiet as they finished dinner, Brady didn’t know about Ren but all he could think about was getting to see her naked, getting to watch… Shuddering, he picked up his plate and stood.
“I’ll get started on the dishes.” He turned his back and left the room. Hopefully being separated by walls would help relieve some of the tension twisting his insides.
His reprieve was short lived when Ren entered the kitchen and moved in beside him at the sink a moment later.
“The call wouldn’t connect. The storm must have knocked service out,” she explained, picking up the dish towel and reaching for the cutlery he’d washed.
“Maybe try again,” he offered.
“Later.”
The anticipation of what they planned hung in the air, making Brady twitchy, his pulse pound, his breathing shallow. His body had been on hyper alert since he’d sensed Ren in the cafe days ago and now that she was here, now that he’d spent hours with her, the slightest thing threatened to set him off.
He’d been aroused before; every teenage boy went through nights of wet dreams and days of ill-timed boners—coyote shifters were no different. Only this felt like he’d mainlined a gallon of coffee laced with crack. His heart raced like the winner of the Kentucky Derby; his breaths rasped in and out of lungs that felt as though they were being wrung dry, and his blood flooded his veins like lava spewing from a volcano.
And this volcano was about to blow.
He had some concerns about the plan. Mainly whether or not he could control himself once they got naked. The thought of Ren touching herself in front of him just about had his eyes crossing; it certainly had his cock hard as granite and leaking pre-cum. Fuck knows what would happen when it was a reality—within touching distance.
God. He couldn’t be in the same room as her. He’d never keep his hands off her.
The bed in the master bedroom faced the door. He could stand in the hall, lean against the wall opposite; with the door open he’d have a clear view of her.
“Ready?”
Ren’s voice snapped him straight, sent the pounding in his body to deafening decibels. He turned slowly, his gaze meeting hers. Relieved to see her twisting her hands in front of her and the way she chewed the side of her bottom lip, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and attempted to speak. When all he could manage was a croak reminiscent of a dying frog, he nodded and tried to offer a reassuring smile.
He was pretty sure he failed.
She eyed him for a few seconds then without a word, turned and left the kitchen. He could hear her footsteps as she made her way to the bedroom. Just the thought had his cock pulsing, his breathing ragged, and sweat popping out all over his skin.
Taking a couple of seconds to gain control and hopefully stop the trembling in his legs, Brady wished they hadn’t spent over a decade apart. If he’d stayed in Whispering Springs, they would have reached this point long ago. It would have been simpler. They would have gone from being best friends to mates without too much trouble.
Now they were strangers but not. And he’d hurt Ren by not contacting her. With hindsight he knew if he’d tried and succeeded, she never would have revealed his whereabouts or that she was talking to him. He could—should—have trusted her with that.
He’d allowed his mother to separate him from the one person he’d been most connected to. Shaking his head, he cleared it of the past and focused on the now.
Nothing stood in the way of them being together except Ren’s reluctance. And that was wearing down. Slowly, with each minute they spent together, she let down her guard a little more and he knew they were growing closer, could feel the connection they’d always had weaving into place, the threads stronger than before.
“Brady?”
Sucking in a breath, he called out, “Coming,” as he stripped out of his clothes and dropped them on the floor at his feet. Quick strides had him down the short hallway and at the bedroom door.
The vision before him buckled his knees, and he had to grip the doorframe with both hands to keep from falling to the floor. “Fuck.”
Pillows piled up behind her back, Ren reclined against the headboard. Her full breasts—and god did she have a first-class rack—were on display, their red-brown tips hard and pointing his way. She’d bent her knees, widened her feet, and opened her thighs until everything was on show. Every wet luscious inch.
“Fuck,” he breathed out harshly. His fingers dug into the timber frame, and he was relieved to see his claws hadn’t extended.
The smile she gave him said she knew the power she held over him. They might both be virgins but that didn’t mean they were clueless, and Ren definitely wasn’t clueless. She knew exactly what she was doing to him when she trailed her hands down her torso, up the inside of her thighs to her knees, then back down again.
Her fingertips skimmed either side of her pussy, back over her stomach, and finally across those sweetly puckered nipples he wanted to wrap his lips around.
And then she did it again. Stroked her fingers over her quivering belly, skimmed the wet flesh between her legs, down to her knees before reversing once more.
Slowly she touched herself. Taunted him with what he couldn’t touch. What he wanted to touch more than he wanted to breathe. When she started her third round of caresses, the pounding in Brady’s head began to sound like a chant.
Take her, take her, take her.
Blood surged, pulsing through his body and stretching his cock to bursting in a throbbing beat that echoed in his ears, accompanying the words in his head—his soul. He wanted to claim her. Needed to.
Sweat coated his skin and he could feel the fine hair all over his body thicken to fur as his coyote howled to take what was his. With a clenched jaw, Brady removed one hand from the doorframe and wrapped it around his pre-cum slicked shaft.
He’d dripped on the floor between his feet. The puddle grew as he stroked his flesh in a slow, light caress. He didn’t want to go off too soon, and if he grabbed his dick and fucked his hand the way he longed to, it would be over in seconds. Already his balls were tucked up tight and the tingle of eminent release tickled his groin. They needed to get this party started or he’d be partying alone.
“Ren.” Brady squeezed the base of his cock in an attempt to stem the tide. “I can’t… I need… Please.”
Her eyes were glued to his hand, to the thick shaft gripped tight in his fist. Watching her, Brady saw the shiver that rolled over her, saw the slick folds of her pussy grow plumper, redder, wetter.
Before he could beg more, she slid both hands between her legs. One set of fingers spread her pussy lips wide and the other delved between to swirl around her clit. He could see the bud standing tall at the top, could see the opening of her channel fluttering with each stroke of fingers on clit.
Breathing ragged in his ears, it took him a moment to realize Ren breathed just as harsh, that her heart pounded as hard as his. She might look relaxed lying back on the bed except for the flushed glistening skin, the taut peaks of her breast, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the plump red flesh under her fingers…
Yeah, she was right on the edge with him.
He could smell her. The rich scent of her arousal intensifying with every second, every breath—every stroke. Her hips were moving now, lifting off the bed as she thrust a finger deep inside.
His cock pulsed, jerked, and he took a half-step forward before he could stop himself. He couldn’t jump her. She’d offered him this and he’d take it no matter how much effort it took to stay by the door.
She hadn’t said anything since she’d called him and he had to think she was as wound up as him and incapable of uttering a word.
Words might not be flowing from her lips but that didn’t mean she was quiet. No. She made the most erotic sounds. Little whimpers and moans as she thrust a second finger deep while strumming her clit with her thumb; the whole time she held herself wide open for him to see every detail, every pulse of her folds as more blood rushed to the area.
Brady groaned, clenched his jaw, and fought to keep his eyes open and his orgasm from exploding. With the number of times he’d jacked off in the last few days, it was a wonder he could get it up, never mind come. It could be the mating bond or the woman on his bed; either or both could be responsible for his constant arousal and hair-trigger.
“Brady,” she moaned, her hips undulating faster. “I’m going to…” Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she threw her head back and exposed her vulnerable neck, making his teeth drop.
On a gasping cry she went over the edge, her body shuddering and quivering, her back arching as the waves of her release took her under.
He held off as long as he could so he could watch every second of her orgasm except his coyote had other ideas, and as he own release exploded, it blew everything wide open. His coyote had never been this connected to his human side before.
It was as though finding his mate pulled that primitive part of him closer to the surface, gave them a shared goal, and right now that goal was to claim their mate.
Only he couldn’t.
It didn’t matter how much he wanted to or that he knew he could take her without a fight; he couldn’t break her trust. He’d promised to hold back. Go at the pace she set.
And if he was going to do that, he had to leave.
Had to get away from the one thing he wanted most.
Pain sliced deep. Neither he nor his coyote wanted to go but if he didn’t, he’d be on her. Marking her. Biting her. Claiming her.
With a roar, Brady emptied the last of his cum on the floor at his feet and spun around. Bouncing off the walls, he staggered back to the kitchen and the door that led outside.
“Brady!”
Ignoring Ren’s call was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he made it to the back door and flung it open. From one step to the next he shifted, let muscle and bone stretch and snap, reshaping him into the four-legged animal he was at his core.
Paws pounded on wood as he ran across the porch and launched himself into the snowy night.
“Brady!”
She’d followed him. With a quick glance over his back, he barked, growled a warning, before tearing off into the trees at the edge of the yard.
He hoped she wouldn’t shift and follow him. He’d take her if she did. Neither of them would be happy about that. Their first time should be in human form. They could mate as coyotes after they’d sealed their bond, after their mating was complete and they’d claimed each other.
Pushing hard, he followed the trail he’d traveled over the last five days, winding his way through the trees until he reached the little creek at the base of the small incline the house had been built at the top of.
He’d done minimal exploring of the forest since he arrived. The house had taken most of his days but he’d made time to run every day. It settled him, to shift to his animal form and run free. Hopefully, running would calm the roiling hormones and urges of the mating bond.
Brady snorted.
Yeah, right. Nothing would soothe a mating bond except a mate. And his didn’t want him.
No, that was a lie. She did want him; her body couldn’t hide her true feelings, except she was reluctant to give in to their mating. Their history kept her guarded, more so than if they were strangers. He needed to give her time, needed to earn her trust and love once more.
As his muscles quivered and snow melted on his coat, Brady hoped it didn’t take too long. He wasn’t sure he could handle another session of exploring sex without touching her. If she wouldn’t accept his mating claim, maybe he could convince her to accept his mark.