Howling Mad: A paranormal wolf shifter romance (Badlands Book 2) by Rebekah Blue
Authors: Rebekah Blue
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clung to him.
As he drew her against his side and led her towards the waiting motorcycles, she cast a last miserable glance back at her father. He’d been ripped away from her twice in the last few days. First she’d lost the man she’d thought he was, and then he’d been taken from her altogether, and she was hurting. Even though she knew what he’d done, love couldn’t just be switched off.
She clung to Byron as they wound along the roads, putting miles and hours between them and the Zoo. When they reached the carnival grounds, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the trailer.
She didn’t protest as he stripped off her clothes, and acquiesced sleepily as he tucked her beneath the covers and lay down next to her, curling his body around her. He didn’t think he’d sleep, but he drifted off listening to the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing.
He woke in the night to the subtle gleam of light in her dark eyes. She’d turned in his arms, and when he smiled at her, she pressed her mouth against his.
Wordlessly, he pulled her against him. Her lips parted, and he kissed her with soft, exploratory tenderness. Their tongues darted and flickered against each other, and she gave a needy moan, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging at him until he rolled on top of her.
She stroked his back sleepily, the tips of her fingers ticklish, and he settled between her parted thighs as her palms traced lower. She was warm from sleep and her skin smelled of that same scent that had driven him so wild back in the Zoo. Now he was free of that place, and he’d brought the only good thing about it away with him.
He licked the curve of her ear and gently bit her throat, smiling against her skin as she groaned when he stroked the curve of her stomach and the angle of her hip. The darkness was intoxicating and intimate, and he explored the shape of her lips with his own and shivered when he felt the sweep of her dark eyelashes against his cheek. He guided himself between the petals of her sex and found her slippery and ready for him, as if she’d been dreaming of him. He barely managed to bite back a feral groan. She wriggled, telling him wordlessly how much she wanted him.
It was a smooth, achingly slow slide, and by the time he was all the way inside her they were both breathless and whispering nonsense words of encouragement to each other. Byron stroked her hair back from her face and stared down into her dark, pansy-like eyes. The pupils had blossomed wide with desire.
He shuddered and groaned, closing his eyes as he started to move, concentrating on the slick feel of her, and the heat of her skin, and the rapid drumming of her heart. Her breath came in little gasps and moans, and every thread and ribbon of sound wrapped around his spine and pulled him deeper into her.
Naomi wrapped her arms around his back. She stroked the damp curls at the nape of his neck and dug her fingers into his shoulders. Her breathing was ragged and she arched up to meet his thrusts, rolling her hips and whimpering each time he withdrew.
His climax clenched low in his body and he gasped as he struggled to hold back. His brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth, making muffled, agonized sounds of self-restraint as he trembled at the point of no return.
Then Naomi cried out, convulsing in his arms, her pussy clenching around his cock in a rolling wave of spasms, and he came. It was blinding. Shattering. He slid his arm beneath her arched spine and held her even closer as he groaned and spilled himself in her body.
* * * * *
Naomi listened to Byron’s heartbeat. Its strong, reassuring thud-thud was a promise that whatever happened – however crazy the world went around them – he would be her steady rhythm. She raised her head as the peace of the night was broken by the off-key musical tinkle of the merry-go-round.
“It’s the middle of the night,” she said warily. Why…?”
But Byron just grinned and sat up. “Come on,”
As he drew her against his side and led her towards the waiting motorcycles, she cast a last miserable glance back at her father. He’d been ripped away from her twice in the last few days. First she’d lost the man she’d thought he was, and then he’d been taken from her altogether, and she was hurting. Even though she knew what he’d done, love couldn’t just be switched off.
She clung to Byron as they wound along the roads, putting miles and hours between them and the Zoo. When they reached the carnival grounds, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the trailer.
She didn’t protest as he stripped off her clothes, and acquiesced sleepily as he tucked her beneath the covers and lay down next to her, curling his body around her. He didn’t think he’d sleep, but he drifted off listening to the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing.
He woke in the night to the subtle gleam of light in her dark eyes. She’d turned in his arms, and when he smiled at her, she pressed her mouth against his.
Wordlessly, he pulled her against him. Her lips parted, and he kissed her with soft, exploratory tenderness. Their tongues darted and flickered against each other, and she gave a needy moan, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging at him until he rolled on top of her.
She stroked his back sleepily, the tips of her fingers ticklish, and he settled between her parted thighs as her palms traced lower. She was warm from sleep and her skin smelled of that same scent that had driven him so wild back in the Zoo. Now he was free of that place, and he’d brought the only good thing about it away with him.
He licked the curve of her ear and gently bit her throat, smiling against her skin as she groaned when he stroked the curve of her stomach and the angle of her hip. The darkness was intoxicating and intimate, and he explored the shape of her lips with his own and shivered when he felt the sweep of her dark eyelashes against his cheek. He guided himself between the petals of her sex and found her slippery and ready for him, as if she’d been dreaming of him. He barely managed to bite back a feral groan. She wriggled, telling him wordlessly how much she wanted him.
It was a smooth, achingly slow slide, and by the time he was all the way inside her they were both breathless and whispering nonsense words of encouragement to each other. Byron stroked her hair back from her face and stared down into her dark, pansy-like eyes. The pupils had blossomed wide with desire.
He shuddered and groaned, closing his eyes as he started to move, concentrating on the slick feel of her, and the heat of her skin, and the rapid drumming of her heart. Her breath came in little gasps and moans, and every thread and ribbon of sound wrapped around his spine and pulled him deeper into her.
Naomi wrapped her arms around his back. She stroked the damp curls at the nape of his neck and dug her fingers into his shoulders. Her breathing was ragged and she arched up to meet his thrusts, rolling her hips and whimpering each time he withdrew.
His climax clenched low in his body and he gasped as he struggled to hold back. His brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth, making muffled, agonized sounds of self-restraint as he trembled at the point of no return.
Then Naomi cried out, convulsing in his arms, her pussy clenching around his cock in a rolling wave of spasms, and he came. It was blinding. Shattering. He slid his arm beneath her arched spine and held her even closer as he groaned and spilled himself in her body.
* * * * *
Naomi listened to Byron’s heartbeat. Its strong, reassuring thud-thud was a promise that whatever happened – however crazy the world went around them – he would be her steady rhythm. She raised her head as the peace of the night was broken by the off-key musical tinkle of the merry-go-round.
“It’s the middle of the night,” she said warily. Why…?”
But Byron just grinned and sat up. “Come on,”
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