The Hungry Wolf Ch. 02

"Nothing you said makes me feel or think any different, Charlie." He ran his hands over her scars, caressing them lovingly while holding her gaze. "This doesn't change anything. I still want you. I still want to be with you."

"I'm damaged, Damien," she said quietly.

"No." He smiled and bent to kiss her softly, his hand splayed on her abdomen. "You are perfection. Every inch of you." He pulled her back in to his embrace and held her tightly to him. He ran his hands up and down her back, stroking her skin gently. She sighed, closing her eyes to soak up his warmth. His stomach growled and she giggled.

"The beast is hungry," she teased.

"Yes, it is," he laughed back at her. "But it's dinnertime. And we didn't have lunch."

"What?" she said, stepping out of his arms and crossing hers on her abdomen in that self-conscious gesture. It pained Damien to see her hide any part of herself from him, but he understood why she did it, and hoped she would eventually lose the need to do so. "I'm sorry." She looked at him sheepishly, and he swore to himself he would do everything he could to keep that wan redness out of her eyes for the rest of his life.

"I'm not," he grabbed her face and gave her a deep kiss. He released her and knelt down to get her t-shirt for her, shaking it out before handing it to her. "But we should head back and get something to eat."

He untied Hamlet and stroked his muzzle for a moment, murmuring to him, as Charlie put her shirt back on and shook out her hair. Damien glanced over at her as he adjusted the stirrups to find her hands on her hips, her head cocked as she looked at him with an odd expression. "What?"

"What are you?" she asked, shaking her head. "I mean, I meet a gorgeous man in the middle of nowhere on the side of a nearly empty highway who is not only mouthwateringly sexy and acts like he's totally in to me, but easy to talk to and understanding to a fault, and lights me up when he laughs, not to mention electrifies me when he touches me? All because I practice shoddy vehicle maintenance? Really, I've known you for what, 24 hours, and it's like I've always known you, or always been meant to." She shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. "Maybe I'm just nuts."

"Or maybe I'm just your fate," he said, his voice serious even with his broad smile. He was doing his best to remain calm while his wolf howled and jumped to hear her acknowledge the pull she was feeling. "Besides, it's been at least 28 hours since we met." She gave a snort at that and rewarded him with a smile as Damien quickly mounted the horse in one try.

"Show off," she said, looking up at him as he walked them over to her and feeling suddenly shy.

"Give me your hands and step on top of the stirrup, and I'll lift you up, dolcezza," he said, leaning down from the saddle. She did as directed and was easily lifted into the saddle in front of him. He positioned her as before, except he kept the reins in his right hand and put his left arm around her waist. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and he started the horse off at a steady canter. Charlie squealed in delight, grabbing Damien's thighs in a death-grip.

"Relax, dolcezza," he murmured into her ear. "I have you. You'll always be safe now." He kissed her ear.

"I'm not afraid," she said breathlessly, leaning her head back to look at him with an excited smile. "Can you go faster?"

"Anything for you, my Charlotte." He laughed and nudged Hamlet on to a moderate trot and she squealed again, making him laugh again and hold her tighter. Her hands still held his thighs with the same grip, but she leaned into the lope of the horse with him easily, the wind they generated brushing across her skin and through her hair, bathing him completely in her scent. Damien was in absolute heaven.

He slowed them down as they approached the barn, not ready to give up this intimacy. He stopped them outside and lowered her down before dismounting himself. An older looking gentleman came out to take the horse from him.

"Mr. Dimeo," he said with a respectful nod.

"Quinn. How are you?"

"I am well, thank you."

"And Linda?"

"She is well, getting bigger every day."

"When is she due?"

"Another six weeks."

"That will be a fine day."

"Indeed, sir."

"Quinn, I would like you to meet Charlie."
"Ma'am," he said, taking her hand for a moment and giving her a slight bow. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

"It's Charlie. Please." He just gave her a funny look and turned back to Damien.

"Anything else, Mr. Dimeo?"

"No. Thank you, Quinn." He grabbed Charlie's hand and led her towards the main house.

"Damien, are those guard towers?" Charlie asked, pointing to the covered platforms at the corners of the barn.

"No." He gave her a smile. "It's just an architectural feature."

'I take it things went well,' Darian sent as Damien led her to the main house and up the back stairway.

'Yes, I believe it did.'

'And do we have a mating to celebrate?'

'Not yet.' He sent his brother a synopsis of what Charlie had told him, feeling Darian's anger at what she went through.

'Anything she needs, brother. Anything,' Darian said.

'I know.'

'Keep clear of Mira for a day or two. She didn't take the news of your mate well.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah. Eva is going to keep a close tab on her, but be careful just in case.'

'Thanks.'

"Come on, I'll make you dinner."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to."

She tugged at his arm to stop him as he reached the landing. "Damien, I..." she trailed off, disentangling her hand from his and taking a breath to gather her courage. "You don't have to do this. Any of this. Really. I won't think any less of you."

"What do you mean?" He looked at her closely.

"I mean you don't...well...it's alright to go ahead and take me back to my room. I understand."

"Do you?" he asked, walking towards her and making her back up. He gave her a look she didn't understand. "Do you really? Because I don't think you do." He had backed her up against the wall and leaned over her, a hand on either side of her head.

"I don't want you to - " Her eyes were large and Damien could smell her anxiety. It hadn't crossed over to full-blown fear yet, but he knew it could.

"Hush," he gently stopped her. "I told you nothing has changed, didn't I?" She nodded at him and he kissed her deeply, wanting to shout his relief as her hands lifted to touch him, sliding down his sides and coming to rest on his hips. He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "I will never lie to you, my Charlotte," he whispered, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. "So no more of this nay-saying, alright?"

"Alright," she said, her voice husky.

He took her hand and led her to his rooms, standing aside to usher her in and closing the doors behind them. Charlie looked around the large main room, trying to take everything in all at once. This one room was bigger than almost any home she'd had. There was a formal looking sitting room, with a dark leather sofa, a chenille loveseat and two leather wing chairs arranged around a large stone fireplace on the far wall. The fireplace was bracketed by floor to ceiling windows. The furnishings were nice, definitely high end, but not overly opulent.

"Let me give you the tour," Damien said, anxious to show Charlie what he hoped would soon be her new home.

"Alright."

"This is the 'formal' area," he explained, making airquotes around the word. "I never really use this room for much. Over here," he said, leading her to two doors to the right, "is my office and a bathroom." She poked her head in to both rooms, chuckling a bit at the messy state of his desk. "What?"

"You obviously use your office a lot."

"Yeah," he said, running his hand through his hair. "I do tend to work from here a lot. What?"

"You may want to actually straighten it at some point, cowboy." She gave him a poke in the ribs with her free hand.

"Ah. Well, you know what they say, a messy desk is a sign of genius."

"Or obsessive hoarding," she teased.

"Come on, let me show you my home." He led her through double doors on the opposite side of the sitting room. "This is where I actually live." A wide corridor led to a sunken great room with a large sectional sofa. A huge TV hung on the wall, and Charlie noted the X-Box and PS 3 with a smile. The far wall had a sliding patio door that led to a deck, complete with large gas grill and a smoker. A small, informal dining nook off to the left led to the huge kitchen, and Charlie noted the state-of-the-art appliances and slab granite countertops with open admiration, cooing and touching different kitchen gadgets and small appliances while Damien smiled. An archway off the main room opened to another short hallway, with another full bathroom and two bedrooms. Spiral stairs at the end of the hall led to the third floor.

"Come on, let me show you the top floor," he said, giving her a smile that was almost boyish when she nodded. He followed her up the stairs, watching her hips sway and the way her ass flexed as she moved.

The door at the top of the stairs opened to a large room lined with overstuffed bookcases. Another desk -- this one decidedly less cluttered -- sat off to the left, and a plush sofa and loveseat set sat in the middle. A fireplace on the far wall with a marble hearth looked well used. Double doors next to the fireplace opened into a to a huge bedroom, with an enormous platform bed of mahogany and complimentary chests and stands. It was tastefully appointed in russet and gold tones, with thick carpeting in a warm reddish brown. Damien pointed out doors leading to his closet and a short hallway that housed two small rooms and a bathroom. Floor to ceiling glass doors let out on to a large private deck. Charlie turned and saw the fireplace from the other room was two-sided, and connected both rooms.

"Is this your bedroom?" she whispered. She knew they weren't poor, but she had no idea how well off Damien's family was.

"Yes." He gave her hand a squeeze. "Why are you whispering?"

"I have no idea."

He laughed, pulling her along through a large door of the same gleaming mahogany as the room's furniture and into the most opulent bathroom she had ever seen. It was floor to ceiling slate on nearly every surface. A sunken tub that was so large it looked like a small pool sat against a wall of windows and looked out over the ranch. A separate shower with four showerheads sat in the far corner, and a double vanity ran along the wall opposite the windows. She looked at the wall of glass, a smirk on her face as she thought about peeing in front of all that glass.

"It's polarized glass, dolcezza. No one can see in from the outside."

"Am I that easy to read?"

"Not at all."

"Ah. I see." Of course, another girl must have asked. Probably the one they ran in to earlier. She grimaced at her naïveté and the pang of jealousy she felt.

"What?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you see?"

"Oh, no -- nothing. Just a figure of speech." She fingered a towel, avoiding his eyes.

"Alright." He hesitated a moment, knowing it was something, just not sure what. He gave an internal shrug and started to lead her back to the staircase. "I believe I promised you dinner?"

"You did," she said, suddenly aware of how very hungry she was.

"Why don't you relax for a bit and I'll whip something up?"

"You want some help?"

"Not at all. I want to impress you with my prowess in the kitchen."

"Do you now?" she said, looking up at him. They'd made their way back to the downstairs den.

"Oh absolutely," he said, guiding her to sit on the sectional and handing her a remote control that looked like something from the international space station. He bent to kiss her cheek before whispering in her ear. "I'll let you decide what's for dessert." He nuzzled her neck a moment before heading to the kitchen.

Charlie felt the flush of arousal from the innuendo even as she rolled her eyes a bit. She watched him walk, admiring the fit of his t-shirt and pants, trying to picture him without either. She shook her head and looked down at the remote in her hand. She figured there was no way she would be able to work it without an engineering degree, so she put it on the low coffee table in front of her and looked around the room. She saw a shelf with a bunch of pictures on it, and got up to go inspect them. She looked at a picture of Damien and Darian at a lake, both in nothing but swim trunks and smiles. The picture looked pretty recent, and she took it down, looking at it closely. Damien's body was like she pictured. Well structured, firm and healthy. He had a lot of dark hair on his chest, and she ran her fingers over the glass, wondering if it was soft or coarse.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, coming to stand behind her. He made her jump and she hastily put the picture back on the shelf, knocking all the others over in her haste.

"Shit! Sorry about that," she said. She quickly righted the pictures on the shelf.

"It's alright," he said, laughing softly and caressing her back.

"I was looking at the picture of you and your brother. It's nice. You both look so happy and relaxed."

"That was a good day," he said, glancing up at the pictures before looking at her. He took her into his arms and put his forehead to hers. "Although I can think of at least one day so far that has been better." His desire for her showed plainly on his face, and he could smell her getting aroused in response.

"Don't tell me dinner's done?" she said, clearing her throat and stepping back from his arms.

"Not yet, no," he said, smiling at her and letting her go. "Should only be another 15 minutes or so."

"Really?" He nodded. "Reheating?" He rewarded her with another barking laugh and she beamed.

"Just the sauce. How did you know?"

"I can smell it. No one can make pasta sauce -- real pasta sauce -- in under 20 minutes without having something already at least partially prepared."

"Oh."

"Plus, you're Italian, so no way you'd get your sauce from a jar." She gave him a wink at that, and he could no longer resist kissing her. He took her in his arms again and held her tightly to him while he proceeded to completely dominate her mouth and tongue until she felt dizzy and whimpered against him. "Jeeeezus, Damien," she gasped as he kissed down her neck.

"Hmmm?" he pulled his head back to look at her, noting her increased breathing and flushed lips with a sense of accomplishment.

"You make me feel drunk." She extricated herself from his arms once again and took a step back, embarrassed at her admission, but he grabbed her and pressed her flush against him again.

"I'm not done," he growled at her, making her shiver and gasp. He kissed her, a little more roughly than before, moving his hands to her ass and lifting her to her toes. He could smell her arousal clearly and he pressed his crotch against her, letting her feel his hardness. She lifted her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against him, matching the fervor of his kissing and moaning into his mouth. He was about to lose control, and could see himself throwing her on the floor and ripping her clothes off to fuck her when the oven buzzer in the kitchen sounded, and they jumped apart, almost guiltily.

"Saved by the bell," she breathed, pressing her palm to her mouth and staring at him, her eyes wide.

He looked back at her, breathing heavy, hands clenched into fists at his side. "I need a moment," he ground out through his clenched jaw, turning to lean against the wall.

"I'll take care of the oven," Charlie said quietly, eyes briefly traveling down to the bulge of his cock and making her escape, a goofy smile taking over her face. It gave her a thrill to think she got him that riled up. She turned the upper oven off and opened the door, grabbing a towel to remove the cookie sheet with the garlic toast on it. She hunted around a bit, fished a plate out of a cupboard and slid the bread on to it.

She tucked the towel in her pocket as she poked around in the cupboards and found a colander, placing it in the sink and turning to check the boiling pasta. She found a fork and twirled some around before pulling it out and looking at it. She dropped the back in the water before turning off the burner and lifting the pot to the sink, carefully pouring the contents in to the waiting colander before putting the pot back on the cooktop.

"You really do know your way around a kitchen," Damien said, leaning against the counter and watching her. He had taken off his shoes and had his legs crossed at the ankles, making him look even sexier to Charlie.

"It's just what I do," Charlie said, with a quick smile and a shrug. She quickly rinsed the pasta and shook the colander before dumping the noodles back in the pot, swirling them in the pot to quickly dispel the moisture and even the temperature. "You want to take over again?"

"No, no, by all means I will happily leave it to you." He smiled and moved towards a cupboard. "I'll set the table."

She took the pot of sauce and dumped it in the pot with the pasta. She grabbed a set of tongs out of the utensil holder on the counter and used them to mix it. She looked at the sauce as it coated the noodles, and stuck her finger in to taste it, her brow furrowing.

"Cowboy, if this is marinara sauce why am I smelling meat?" she called.

"Meatballs, dolcezza, in the lower oven."

"Ah, thanks." She pulled the pan with the meatballs out and placed it on the counter. She got a bowl out and used the tongs to transfer the meatballs to the bowl. She grabbed it and the plate with the garlic toast and took it over to the table.

"Sit, Charlie, and I will dish up the pasta." He held a chair out for her.

"I don't mind."

"I insist," he said, grabbing her wrist and making her sit down. "Sit, have some wine, and I'll be right back." He poured some red wine in to a glass and handed it to her.

"You trying to get me drunk, cowboy?"

"Not at all, I assure you." He gave her a wink as he head back towards the kitchen. "What I want to do with you requires you to be sober," he shot over his shoulder. Charlie's eyes bugged out at that and she smiled to herself, sipping the wine.

He came back in carrying bowls heaping with pasta, making Charlie laugh and shake her head at the portion size. They sat and ate slowly, talking and touching and exchanging little kisses throughout the meal, both wanting to keep the connection they felt open. They finished the bottle of wine and started on a second, their food forgotten as they got lost in getting to know each other. Charlie started to yawn in to her hand and Damien took that as his cue to wrap up the evening. They cleared the table together before he shuttled her to the den, telling her to relax as he cleaned up. She tried to resist but the emotional roller coaster of the last 24 hours and the wine were taking their toll. She sat on the couch and promptly fell asleep, her upper body draped over the arm.

When Damien finished cleaning he came out and found her sound asleep. He gently scooped her up and carried her to his room, laying her on the bed softly. He got a t-shirt out of one of his drawers and proceeded to carefully undress her. He stopped once he had her completely nude and looked down at her. His wolf clamored to take her, he was so excited to have their mate naked in their bed he didn't want to wait, and Damien had to fight to not shift and claim Charlie right then. Instead, they both had to be satisfied with feasting their eyes on her, her full breasts, her softly rounded hips, the gentle swell of her pelvis, the dark brown hair between her toned legs. Her body was womanly, all softness and curves, and his mouth watered to think it would soon be his to enjoy. He mustered all his strength and eased his t-shirt on to her before shifting her to get her under the duvet, smiling as she promptly rolled on to her side. He stripped down and climbed in to bed next to her, spooning up to her back and putting his arm around her. He lay awake for a while, fighting back his arousal while savoring having her there.