This was another of my more popular novels. It's the sequel to Pick of the Litter and the main characters, Nashe Wolfe and Terry Taylor are two of my favorites. Nashe just has that bad boy brooding attitude that just makes him cuddleable. I realized this morning that I'm giving excerpts of books but not telling you where to find them. Most of them can be found at All Romance Ebooks under my pen name of Wendy Stone. It's the easiest place to find them. Pick of the Litter and A Strange New Breed can also be found in print through Amazon.com, also under my pen name of Wendy Stone. Enjoy!!!
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Chapter One
Terry ran through the woods, glancing fearfully behind her every few steps. She couldn’t yet see what was chasing her, but she could hear it, loudly crashing through the underbrush, its growling leaving a chill of fear over her skin.
The thin white gown she wore caught on the brambles and branches, her arms were scratched, her feet cut on the rocks she ran over. Terror kept her moving even when she could barely draw air into her exhausted lungs and her body screamed for rest.
Finally, her body won out and she dropped to her knees in a grassy clearing, the full moon overhead creating the illusion of daylight. Glancing down at her shaking hands, she saw the thin shift she wore, tattered now by her wanton bid for freedom. It was nearly see through, the tiny top cupping her breasts, making them look full and lush. The rest was transparent, wet from the dew that coated the grasses she knelt upon. It showed off trim thighs and rounded hips, the material clinging to her tiny waist.
“I don’t own anything like this,” she said softly, confusion clouding the sapphire blue of her eyes as she plucked at the fabric, pulling it away from her skin. “And how did I get into the woods? I don’t even like the woods, too many mosquitoes and ticks,” she said with a shiver of disgust. “This is like some cheesy setting in some bad B-movie horror flick. If there was music, it would be coming to a crescendo and cueing in the foul beast come to ravage my poor body.”
As if she’d conjured him up, a large silver animal loped into the clearing, its keenly intelligent emerald eyes fixed upon her. It growled, showing large white fangs in a display meant to be terrifying.
It did terrify Terry, but only for a moment. She stood, ignoring the aches and pains and feeling them fade away. Pointing her finger at the animal, she shook it like her mother always had when one of her children had misbehaved. “Bad dog,” she said in a disapproving voice. “Very bad dog. Sit!”
The animal stared at her as if confused, cocking its huge head to the side. Then slowly, almost reluctantly, it sat.
Terry walked slowly toward the animal, holding her hand out as she’d seen countless people do to animals they didn’t know. The silver beast took the cue, leaning forward to sniff delicately at the proffered hand, its mouth opening and its tongue lolling out to give her a tiny lick. “Good boy?” she said softly, glancing between the animal’s legs to check. “Wow, yeah, good boy.”
The animal seemed to be amused and it surprised Terry by rolling over onto his back on the grass, exposing his belly and the large pronouncement of his male heritage.
Terry dropped to her knees, intrigued despite the ludicrousness of the situation. Reaching out, she hesitantly began to scratch the big animal on his stomach, hearing what sounded suspiciously like a purr coming from deep inside his chest. “You’re a funny one,” she said quietly. “Do you know how I got out here?”
He grunted as if in answer, rolling to his belly and standing up. The animal turned after shaking the clinging grass and dirt from his fur, looking over his shoulder as if to urge her to come with him.
“You aren’t like taking me to be supper for your family, are you? I’m pretty small, I don’t think I’d make much of a meal.”
He grunted again, this time the grunt sounded amused, as if the animal could understand what she was saying. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Then again, so was ending up in some dark forest, running for your life while being chased by a big weird looking animal with the biggest schlong she’d ever seen. This was one for the diary that was for sure. She took the first step toward him and felt her foot disappear through the once solid ground and into nothingness.
When she could see again, she was in bed. But this wasn’t her bed or her bedroom. Cautiously sitting up, she realized that even the scant protection of the small white shift was gone as the satin sheet slipped down, exposing her breasts.
“Damn,” she swore, grabbing the sheet and holding it with one hand to her chest. “What is going on?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Terry shrieked, the voice was definitely male with a tone that sent a shiver through her even as it scared the living daylights out of her. “Who are you?” she demanded, her head swiveling to look into the shadows to find the man. “Where are you?”
“You didn’t answer me,” he said softly, and she jumped for it sounded as if he were right next to her. “Do you really want to know?”
“Y-yes, I want to know,” she said, scooting quickly to the edge of the bed and pulling the sheet free of the bed to wrap around her. “Then I want you to call me a cab and show me the way out of this funhouse.”
An arm wrapped around her waist from behind, hauling her back against a tall very male body. Terry shrieked, wanting to fight but her arms were trapped at her sides. Through the thin satin, she could feel the hard, muscular contours of him, including a very long, very thick erection that pushed against her butt. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you what is going on,” he said, amusement coloring his tone.
“I changed my mind,” she said quickly, struggling to move her arms, never realizing that her struggles were causing the slippery satin knot she’d tied to hold up the sheet to loosen. When it gave way, covering his arm and exposing her breasts, she doubled her efforts to be free, kicking back with her feet and scoring his shins with her hard heels. “Let me go, pervert. Let me go or I’ll scream down this house!”
She was freed too quickly for her to react, the satin slipping the rest of the way down, leaving her naked in front of the shadowed stranger. She shrieked, reaching down to grab the material to cover herself again, only to find it held down by a large, very masculine foot.
“I’m not a pervert,” he said softly, as she tugged at the satin. “A pervert is someone with an unusual sexual proclivity. There’s nothing unusual about what I’m thinking.”
“And rape is normal?” she argued, finally giving up on rescuing the material. Instead she slowly rose, covering the blonde tuft on her sex with one hand and using her arm to try to cover the heaving mounds of her breasts. “Listen to me, buddy, there isn’t anything normal about rape.”
“Rape? I don’t want to rape you, Terry.”
She took a step back, feeling his eyes roaming over her exposed curves and wanting to sink into the ground. “So if you don’t want to rape me, why have you brought me here?”
“I didn’t bring you here, you brought yourself, quite willingly if I recall.”
Terry took another step back, wishing she had an extra hand that she could use to feel behind her for the door. She thought back on her evening. It had been a week since Marissa had disappeared with Lukah and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her friend except for a phone call, telling her that she was all right. Marissa had quit working, something Terry couldn’t blame her for considering the size of the Alexandros fortune.
Hell, Terry couldn’t blame her for any of it, really. Tall, gorgeous and tasty as hell, she’d have gone after Lukah Alexandros herself except for the fact he had eyes for only Marissa. But she’d been bummed, being left with Shawna was hell. So she’d gone out to one of her favorite clubs to dance away the blues.
“Okay, this is an alcohol induced dream. You aren’t real and all I have to do is wake up.” She closed her eyes after giving him one last warning glance that told him what would happen if he touched her again. “I’ve just got to wake up. Wake up, Terry. You can do it, just open your eyes and the hangover will be hell. Then I won’t ever go partying like that ever again.” She waited a beat then slowly opened her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw her own bedroom walls.
“Thank you,” she breathed, dropping her arms.
“You’re welcome,” he said, coming up behind her once again, his hands moving over her hips and up her stomach, forcing her to step back against him. “If you’d wanted to do this in your own room, your own bed, you’d only had to ask.”
His hands were warm against her cold skin, the contrast sending shivers through her. His entire body was warm, making her want to curl into him instead of fight to be away from him. He had talented hands, wonderfully callused hands that were just rough enough to feel good against her body.
“Stop,” she moaned as he moved her hair aside with his chin, his lips finding the pulse in her neck and teasing it. He nibbled on her skin, his teeth sharp, scraping at her with just enough force to cause another shiver to shake her slender form. “Oh God that feels good. No,” she shook her head, trying to pull away from his lips. “No it doesn’t feel good.” But the moan that came from deep within her belied her every word.
His lips moved from the pulse that now thundered frantically at the base of her throat and up the skin of her neck, running his tongue up that long length and find her ear. He nibbled at her ear lobe, taking that sensitive piece of flesh into his mouth. “Stop and go or stay and come,” he whispered in her ear, his hands finally covering her full breasts, his palms rolling over nipples hardened in need.
“I don’t know you,” she moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder, her hands reaching behind her and finding the hard columns of his muscled thighs. “I can’t want you like this.”
“Why not?” he purred into her ear, moving against her as she caressed him, using her nails against his skin. “I want you.”
“Oh,” she moaned, “say it again.”
“I want you, Terry,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to tie you to the bed, to touch every part of you. I want you to scream with need, and then I’m going to part your legs and cover your sweet pussy with my mouth. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, lick your clit until you explode and then start all over again until you beg me to stop.” He took a deep breath and she could feel the frantic beat of his heart against her back. He was as affected by his words as she was. “Only when you beg, only then will I fuck you.”
Her legs shook and she couldn’t stand any longer, letting him hold her up. “Who are you?” she cried, her body burning with need, with desire for him, for this stranger and his strange powers.
“You know who I am, Terry.” He lifted her off her feet, taking a single step that took them back to the other room, the bed, a four poster, had straps at each corner.
Terry moaned at the sight and felt a gush of warmth between her thighs. She was wet, swollen, wanting him to do to her all he’d whispered. She wanted to make love to this stranger and he hadn’t even kissed her yet. He laid her down against the satin sheet, the fabric cool on her now heated flesh. She stayed where he put her, watching as he moved around the bed, careful to keep his face averted from her eyes.
His hands were gentle as he positioned her to his liking, glancing up once in a while to make sure she was comfortable. Then he tightened the straps, testing them before moving to the next until she was spread eagle on the bed, her body exposed and opened to him.
Then and only then did he lift his head.
“You!” she cried, her eyes narrowing as she took in the familiar face with his piercing green eyes and the flecks of silver that framed his dark hair. “How are you doing this? How can you make me want you so badly when I hate you?”
Nashe reached out with one hand, his fingers touching the skin of her knee, slowly sliding up her leg to her thigh. He watched as she tried to struggle away from his fingers, but she was bound tightly, unable to move. “I hate you, too,” he said softly. “You’re everything I can’t stand in a woman, opinionated, bossy, arrogant. You look down your nose at anyone who’s different. You think you’re so much better than me,” he growled, running just the tips of his fingers through the blonde tuft of fur at the top of her slit. She was shaved bare beneath it, smooth and wet and totally irresistible.
“Then why are you doing this?” Her breathing was harsh, her breasts heaving as she waited for both his answer and the touch of his fingers there, sliding inside of her.
“Because it doesn’t matter how much I hate you, or despise everything about you, I can’t get you out of my head. Just one thought does this to me,” he said, waving at the long, hard length of his cock. There was disgust in his voice as if he couldn’t stand the thought that she was the one that was doing this to him. But when his eyes roamed over her flesh, they were tinged with green flames.
He bent suddenly, startling a cry out of her, his mouth moving over one breast, circling the taut peak until he had her squirming, her body moving as much as it could under him. When he finally drew her pale nipple into his mouth, she cried out, an explosion of pleasure surging from his suckling lips into her groin.
“God! How can you do that?” she cried, her wrists twisting in the padded bindings. She wanted desperately to touch him, whether to rip at his hair and tear his mouth away from her body or to hold him closer, she didn’t know.
He took his time, playing with her nipples, stroking them with his fingers, twisting and tweaking the reddening peaks before taking them into his mouth. His hands fondled her soft flesh, growing rougher as her passion rose again. Even the mauling felt good to her, the roughness exciting her to a new level of passion unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
It was almost a relief when he left her breasts, moving to her ribs, kissing his way down the concave smoothness of her belly to where it rose slightly just above that small tuft of blonde fur. He looked up at her, laying his body between her thighs, planting a soft kiss on her thigh. “Are you ready, Terry?”
“Ready?” she asked dumbly.
He smiled, his white teeth flashing in his tanned skin. “Yeah, babe, ready for this?” He moved with the quickness of a predator pouncing upon his prey, his lips moving across her smooth lower lips, his tongue plunging between to taste of her musk. Her cry of surprise turned quickly to a shuddering moan, his tongue finding the small knot of her clit, flicking over it eagerly.
“Oh God, oh God,” she moaned, struggling against her restraints to move, wanting to wrap her thighs around his head and pull him further into her. It felt so amazing, so astounding, so different than what any other man had ever done to her. His tongue felt different, longer, thinner, seeming to wrap around her clit almost as if it was jacking her off.
Her body tightened, arching against the bindings, pulling on them. She was so close to coming, wanting it with every fiber of her being. “Please,” she growled, her head thrashing against the pillow.
He lifted his head, hearing her groan as he pulled away from her at the most crucial moment. “So soon?” he asked arrogantly.
“Shut up and keep going,” she snarled.
“Whatever the lady desires,” Nashe chuckled, bending his head toward the sweet flesh he found he craved.
“How about your head on a fucking platter?” she snapped before moaning in bliss as he lashed at her swollen flesh with his tongue.
He punished her with his mouth, capturing her clit and sucking upon it before nibbling with teeth that felt almost too sharp. It was the last little push she needed and she threw her head back on the pillow, her teeth biting into her bottom lip until it bled to keep from screaming out his name. Agonizing pleasure swamped her, leaving her breathless, sensitive and limp.
But still he continued, on and on until she felt as if she’d been ravaged, her body one long sensitive nerve ending, his for the taking. The waves of bliss were endless, one after the other, piling on top of her until she gave up, screaming his name in a hoarse voice.
He was gone. Terry blinked blearily, still unable to move. “Nashe?” she whispered, her lips swollen, her mouth dry from the punishing ecstasy he’d put her through.
Nashe sank down next to her on the bed, reaching over to the empty night stand and bringing back a goblet filled with icy cold water. He held it to her mouth, letting her sip it before dipping his fingers into the top and rubbing her taut nipples with the frigid drops. Setting the glass down again, he leaned over her, his lips parting to pull her cold nipples into the searing heat of his mouth.
“Ahhh,” she groaned, her back arching as he played with one peak while suckling upon the other. “Stop, Nashe, God please.”
“Too much tongue?” he asked, his face splitting into a huge grin as he saw the look in her beautiful blue eyes. He reached up, wiping the blood off of her chin with his thumb, blood that had been drawn while she fought against him to keep him from hearing her scream.
Terry watched as he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking off the smear of blood before he came closer again, his lips gentle as they covered her. A sense of surrealism took her as she felt her blood heat once more, her body craving his touch, craving his possession. The urge to feel him inside of her, to know if she could take him all inside her body seemed almost too much to resist and she gave in.
“Fuck me,” she whispered against his lips.
Nashe lifted his head, staring down at her. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, you prick.” Now that she’d made the decision, she just wanted to get it over with. “Go ahead and fuck me. You aren’t going to stop until you get what you want, so just fucking do it.”
“Well, that was one of the nicest invitations I’ve ever received,” he said sarcastically.
“You’re the one who told me you wouldn’t leave me until I begged you to fuck me, right?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, hurrying on before she could lose her nerve. “Okay, listen closely. Oh Nashe, you big burly stud, fuck me please. I’m begging you, stick that big, hard cock into my tiny, wet pussy,” she fluttered her eyelashes at him as she finished her sarcastically insipid begging.
He stared down at her without moving but for the tick that twitched at the side of his mouth, then he sat up, his hand moving from her breast. “You can be a real bitch, Terry.”
“Aww, does that mean you aren’t going to fuck me?” she said sweetly.
“No, it just means that you’re a real piece of work.” He moved over her once more and she felt his cock, hard and thick, at the entrance to her sex.
“Wait!” she breathed, struggling against the restraints. “At least wear a condom.”
He dropped to his elbows, his hands smoothing back her wet blonde hair from her face. “Does that mean you aren’t on the pill?” he teased, moving his hips just enough to push the tip of his cock into her and then back out.
“Yes,” she groused. “That’s exactly what that means. Besides,” she said with a gasp, “I don’t know how many skanky women you’ve been dipping your wick into. I don’t want to catch anything.”
Nashe laughed, he had the unmitigated gall to laugh!
“What’s so funny, you bastard?”
“You are, my sweet. You’re a hoot, Ter.” He captured her head with his hands, finding her mouth as he began to push inside of her. She could feel him stretching her, her wet flesh parting around his invading cock even as his tongue pushed inside of her mouth. Either sensation was enough to send her soaring into bliss but the combination had her forgetting about pregnancy and disease, crying out in pleasure.
It seemed to go on and on until the fullness was all she could think of. He pulled his mouth from hers, staring down the length of their bodies, watching as his cock disappeared inside her wet sex.
“Oh God,” she groaned, unable to believe how good, how right he felt. When he reached behind him and undid the restraints on her ankles, she barely had time to groan at the relief she felt before he hooked her knees over his elbows, bending her almost in half, opening her to take all of him.
“You can call me Nashe,” he growled, looking down at her with that sexy half smile on his face.
Her brain was on a sensation overload, unable to come up with a snappy comeback or even a suitably foul name to call him. Instead, she tipped her head back, her throat arched as he began to move inside of her. His strokes were long and slow, and she could feel him watching her. Unable to resist, she opened her eyes, getting caught in the green fires in his.
Terry could see the pleasure he was feeling, she felt as if she could see into his soul. There was a strange blackness there. It was a sadness, a pain that was almost all encompassing. She wanted to reach out, to touch him and try to take away that pain, cleanse his soul from whatever had made it so scarred and black.
But she could do little more than lay there, his pawn to take and play with. She was a receptacle for his lust, a lust that she felt as well.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he panted, “and I’m going to think you don’t hate me anymore. Come on, Terry, you’re not falling in love with me are you?”
“I take it back,” she snapped, though her voice was hoarse and her breathing was as harsh as his. “You aren’t a prick. You’re nothing more than an asshole.”
The smile that flitted across his face made her long to reach out and smack him. Instead, she closed her eyes, denying him and herself of that closeness. She turned her face, burying it against her arm and the pillow.
With her eyes closed, she could do little more than concentrate on how he felt inside of her, how good it felt to be taken by him. The tension built inside of her, growing and growing with every hard thrust of his deliciously made cock. Tiny whines and whimpers were torn from her, muffled by her arm.
“Fuck,” he growled, slamming into her. “You feel so good babe, you’re so damn tight. It feels like you’re trying to squeeze my dick off.”
His crude words sent a thrill through her that she didn’t understand. She hated guys who talked dirty to her during sex, usually finding it distracting. But with Nashe, Terry felt as if she’d go up in flames.
“Tell me how it feels, babe,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear and taking the lobe in his mouth to bite down on.
“Wonderful,” she managed to squeak out. “Don’t stop.”
“I don’t think I could,” he growled.
Her body shook at each punishing thrust, her breasts ached and felt swollen. She could feel his hard cock rubbing up against her clit with every movement. She was on the edge of a cliff wanting to soar, waiting for that last push that would send her into the oblivion of ecstasy.
Then she was over, flying, circling on an updraft of pleasure so intense, her toes curled. She screamed, she couldn’t help it. His name burst from her lips. Then she felt him, his cock swelling then his come bursting from the end, spurting inside of her. The last she heard was his moan which sounded suspiciously like her name before darkness took her.
* * *
The siren like noise of the alarm clock had Terry almost jumping out of bed. She glanced around the room frantically, searching for some sign of Nashe. There was nothing. Glancing down, she was surprised to find that she still wore the tank top and pajama pants she’d put on the night before. Her face twisted into a confused grimace and she hurried to the bathroom, stripping off clothing as she went.
There had to be some sign of him, she thought. There had to. It had been too real to have been a dream. Besides, none of her wet dreams had ever been that freaky or had starred a man she couldn’t stand.
Pulling off her panties, she stood in front of the full length mirror in her bathroom, staring at herself. She should have been a mass of bruises, cuts and scrapes from the trees she’d run through should have marred her soft skin. But there was nothing, not a single bruise that she could see.
“Damn it, it had to be real,” she breathed, turning around and around in front of the mirror. She even went as far as to get a smaller mirror, looking for signs of penetration. Nothing.
“It didn’t happen,” she said as if trying to convince herself. She felt like a fool.
Turning, she started the shower, determined to forget about her weird dream and Nashe Wolfe.
* * *
Across town in a small condo, Nashe sat up in bed, a wide smile on his lips. He could still taste her on his lips. “Terry Taylor, who’d have thought you to be such a kinky little thing.” Lying back on the bed, he crossed his arms under his head. He still had a few hours before he had to be up and getting to the restaurant.
Closing his eyes, he conjured up the image of the blonde haired, blue eyed vixen who’d played such a wonderful part in his dreams.
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