She moaned and parted her legs, and he slid two fingers smoothly into her slick, grasping channel. As he withdrew his fingers, he curled them to drag them over her G-spot, and all the while his thumb moved back and forth on her button. He pushed into her hand again and again even as he worked his fingers inside her body and his mouth ravished her breast, pushing her closer and closer to her crisis.
His thrusts got faster, the motion of his fingers inside her rougher and less controlled, and his mouth stilled against her breast. She could see the tension knotting his broad shoulders, and his breath came in long, agonized shudders.
He cried out against her body as he jerked and spasmed, coming long and hard, spattering thick ropes of cum over her hip and belly. The sound of his primal, soul-deep groan sparked something inside her and she came too, bucking her hips up against his hand and helplessly shouting her release.
They spiraled back to reality together, holding each other tight, sheened with sweat and sticky with cum, trembling with exhaustion and the aftershocks of their love making.
“That,” said Knox, when he’d recovered his voice, “was amazing.”
Heather thought about the way he’d used his clever fingers and his hot body to thwart her seduction attempt. “That,” she replied, “was sneaky. But you won’t hear me complaining.”
* * * * *
The next day, Heather strolled across Knox’s property at 11 a.m. Everybody else was at work, or running the small dairy farm.
Knox had left several hours ago. He was at work, out on patrol. He’d taken Kevin and his packmates with him, pretending to look for Margaret. He took them to the areas where teenage runaways might congregate. That was fine. It gave the appearance that he was trying to help, but Heather already knew that Margaret wouldn’t be in any of those places.
She’d gotten Knox to give her access to the documents regarding pack law that Trista had recommended, and studied them for the last couple of days, but so far, unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to come up with anything that would help her for sure.
At this point it came down to everyone else’s word against Margaret’s, and everybody was doing their best to trash-talk the girl’s reputation.
Olive was visiting Margaret early each morning, taking her food and clean outfits and keeping her company for an hour or two. Then she’d go straight back to her house and shower so nobody could pick up Margaret’s scent on her. She lived in town, off pack property, so she could get away with it.
Olive was the only shifter that Heather could trust to help with Margaret. Everybody else lived in fear of Knox’s word, and nobody would dare defy him. Olive was older than dirt and owned half the town. She feared nobody. She always treated Knox with respect in public, of course, because he was the Alpha, but behind his back she did whatever the heck she pleased.
Heather stopped walking and sat down on an oak tree that had been felled by lightning. As spring gave way to summer, the forest was ablaze with color. There were red maple trees, curled green fiddlehead ferns and blazing yellow forsythia. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the rich, loamy forest floor. This would be her new home. The pack would be her new family. Her children would turn into wolves and play on this forest floor. She marveled at the thought.
“What’s the matter, human, Knox get bored with you already?” Heather whirled around. Sasha, slinking up to her with a malicious snarl on her face. Great.
“He’s at work,” Heather said with annoyance. She stood up to return to the main house.
“Keep telling yourself that, skin,” Sasha sneered. Knox had told her that “skin” was an insulting reference to humans.
“Okay, I will. Keep telling yourself you’ve got a shot with him,” Heather said, bored.
Sasha leaped in front of her, and her face went furry.
“Here’s the thing, human.” Her speech was slurred, as fangs thrust down from her gums, and a rope of saliva slid from her mouth. “He hasn’t claimed you yet, which obviously means he’s not interested, by the way. He’s stringing you along. He does that.”
That stung, even though she knew it was a lie. “Oh, Sasha, is it fun in that delusional little land inside your head?” Heather changed direction and began walking; Sasha hurried to walk right next to her, uncomfortably close. She could feel Sasha’s hot breath on her face.
“It’s going to be fun when I rip your throat out thirty seconds from now. Pack law allows me to do that; as I was saying, he hasn’t claimed you, and you know of our existence, so I am legally permitted to kill you.” Her eyes shone with rage and a demented glee.