The Hungry Wolf Ch. 06

"Becky..." Charlie said. Damien could hear her friend talking over her. "Becky, I... but...if you would...call it a -- a commitment ceremony, then..." Charlie kept at it, but her friend wouldn't let up.

"Let me, my love," he murmured into her ear, taking the phone out of her hand before she realized what he was up to. "Becky?" he said, cutting off the woman on the other end of the call mid-rant.

"Yeah?" she sounded angry, confrontational.

"I'm marrying your friend on the eleventh. It is very important to her, to both of us, to have you here."

She was quiet for a moment. "You just met," she said at last.

"Yes."
"And you're already getting married."

"Yes."
"That doesn't seem odd to you?"

"No."

"No?"

"I love her." He squeezed Charlie to him, giving her a smile.

"You love her," she repeated.

"All I want is to be with her, forever, for the rest of our lives. I want to fall asleep with her in my arms and to wake up to her every day for as long as I breathe. I want to stand before our families and make her mine completely, as completely as I am hers. I want to make her happy, and I will do whatever it takes and spend every waking moment on achieving that goal, beginning with begging you to be here for her." His smile broadened as Charlie shifted to the side and laid her head on his chest.

"Put her on the phone again, please," Becky said, her voice losing it's edge. He handed the phone to Charlie before pulling her closer to him.

"Yeah?" she said warily, bracing herself for another tirade.

"Do not let him get away," she sighed, making Charlie give a sudden laugh. "That was one of the sweetest speeches I've ever heard, Char, and I may need to get on insulin from it, but damn if it wasn't persuasive."

"Yeah," Charlie said, smiling broadly. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I'll get a ticket tonight and call you with the flight details, okay?"

"I love you, Beck." Damien tapped her thigh and held his hand out for the phone again. "Hang on a sec, Damien wants to talk to you again."

"Okay," Becky said. Charlie handed the phone over to him, leaning forward to hear the conversation.

"I will get your ticket for you, Becky. Will you be able to come out on the ninth?"

"The ninth?"

"I think Charlie would be grateful to have you here a couple days early."

"Hang on," she said. He could hear her rifling through some papers for a moment. "I could be there as early as the seventh, as long as I left after 2pm," she said at last. "But I would have to be back by the thirteenth at the latest."

"Perfect. I will get your ticket for the evening of the seventh with a return the afternoon of the twelfth."

"You don't need to buy my ticket for me."

"Think of it as a wedding gift for my bride," Damien said, making Becky laugh. He handed the phone back to Charlie and slid off the bed to get dressed.

"So I'll see you in less than a week," Charlie said, watching Damien pull his jeans up over his ass.

"It would appear so," Becky said. Charlie could hear the smile in her voice and let out a shaky sigh. "I'm... I am happy for you, Char."

"I know." She looked at Damien as he combed his hair back with his fingers. "I know you're just concerned, Beck. But you don't need to be."

"You know what? It doesn't sound like I do."

"I can't wait to see you," Charlie said, excitement creeping into her voice and making it sound squeaky. "I can't wait for you to meet him."

"Me neither," Becky said with a laugh. "Is there anything you need me to help you with?" she asked. "Any kind of 'matron-of-honor' thing you need?"

"You're the maid-of-honor; and no, I don't think so."

"You sure? I thought it was matron-of-honor if you were over 30?"

"Nope. It's matron-of-honor if you're married."

"Oh. Eww. Maid-of-honor it is, then," Becky said, making Charlie laugh.

"Crazy."

"Yep," Becky laughed. "I'm gonna go. Got to start figuring out what to wear for this shindig."

"Uh, yeah," Charlie said, trying not to laugh. "Nothing fancy, Beck. Trust me."

"Hmmm. I'll figure it out."

"Alright. I'll call you tomorrow with your flight details, okay?"

"Okay," Becky said, but she sounded distracted. Charlie could see her, standing at the door to her closet and surveying her clothes. Becky was the most clothes-minded person she'd ever met. Surprisingly vain about her appearance, and something of a label-whore, yet still so down-to-earth it was almost eerie. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," she said, hanging up the phone while Charlie just sat on the edge of Damien's bed and giggled softly. He smiled at her and raised his eyebrows.

"I couldn't figure out how to tell her what to wear to the ceremony," she explained to Damien as he came and stood before her.

"I think that may be a conversation better had in person." He held his hand out to her, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

"I think you're right." She took his hand and let him pull her up off the bed.

"Get your boots and jacket, dolcezza."

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"It's time for our ride," he said, smiling at her.

"Oh!" She laughed and shook her head. "I'd totally forgotten about that," she said as she ran to the closet. "Does that mean I owe you another kiss?" she called out as she slipped her feet into her boots.

"You better believe it does," Damien said, standing in the doorway to the closet and watching her. "You still owe me 2299, if memory serves."

"Well, I better get busy with that, huh?" she said, pulling her jacket off the hanger and stepping up to him. She fisted her hand in his t-shirt and went up on her toes to kiss him, teasing his lips with her tongue before slipping it inside to stroke his. She could feel him smile against her, even though he stood resolutely with his arms crossed in front of his chest. She ended the kiss slowly, licking and nibbling on his lips a bit before stepping back and looking up at him questioningly.

"That was nice, I suppose..." Damien teased.

"Just nice, huh?"

"Well...kind of... 'meh', really," he said, a broad smile on his lips. "Not sure if it was Rocket-worthy, you know."

"Oh?" she said, trying not to laugh as she reached out and cupped him through his jeans. "I think your rocket liked it just fine." She gave him a squeeze as he laughed and grabbed her up in his arms.

"You start with that now and we'll never get out of here, my love," he breathed, nuzzling her neck as he carried her downstairs. She squealed and squirmed against him.

"I certainly wouldn't want that, cowboy." Her tone was teasing as he set her on her feet by the door.

They made their way downstairs, Charlie too excited to notice the people around them bowing slightly as they passed. Damien paused at the bottom of the stairs as a slender young man approached them with a large brown sack and a rolled up blanket. Damien stepped in front of Charlie, blocking her from him, as the young man paused, tilting his neck and dropping his eyes. He held the items out and backed away quickly after Damien took them out of his hands.

"Damien...?" Charlie began, peeking around his side at the retreating man.

"Sorry, my love. Sometimes it's hard to control the protective instinct around other males." He shifted the bag to his right hand and tucked the blanket under his arm, grabbing her hand with his left and leading her towards the door.

"The protective instinct or the possessive instinct?" Charlie asked, glancing up at him.

"Does it matter?" he said, looking down at her.

"So I'm never going to be able to talk to another male again?" she asked as they entered the garage.

"Not at all," Damien said, handing her the blanket and bag before taking down a black full-face motorcycle helmet from a shelf. "It's just unmated males, and just until we're mated." He turned to her and smiled.

"You're serious?" He nodded at her, the same smile on his face.

"But-" she began.

"It's just when I'm...emotional, Charlie. Or turned on. Usually it doesn't bother me too much, but at those times..." he trailed off with a shrug.

"And after we're mated?"

"Well, once we're mated, no one else will be able to mate with you, so I won't see other males as a threat." He raised the face shield and put the helmet on her head, fastening the chin strap.

"And what about you?" Charlie asked as he took the blanket from her and placed it in the left saddlebag. She put her jacket on and zipped it up.

"What about me what?" He took the bag and placed it in the right saddlebag before retrieving his helmet from the loop at the right side of the seat.

"Once we're mated, will anyone else be able to mate with you?" she asked after he had put his own helmet on.

"Nope. I'm all yours." He put his jacket on and pulled the keys out of his pocket.

"And this whole 'hands off my woman' thing ends?" she asked, quickly climbing on to the bike and holding her hands out for the keys.

"That never ends, dolcezza. But it does become easier to manage." He looked down at her, noting the humor in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the keys," she said.

"You want me to ride behind you?"

"Is that a loaded question?" she retorted with a laugh. She could just make out the smirk on his face at that.

"Do you think you can handle that much power between your thighs, my Charlotte?" he said, his voice low.

"I seem to have handled it well enough earlier, didn't I?"

"Saucy little thing," he said with a laugh, dropping the keys in her hand. She turned the key, unlocking the forks and turning the bike on. She righted it, pushing back the kickstand with her heel.

"Whoa -- he's heavy," she said, looking up at Damien with excited eyes. "Let me run down the road and back to get a feel?" He nodded as she started the engine, lowering her face shield. She put the bike in gear and gingerly started out of the garage, Damien following on foot behind her to the driveway.

She took off suddenly down the ranch road, the taillight and throb of the engine growing fainter as he watched. When he could no longer see her, he tensed, removing his helmet and cocking his head to listen for her. He could just hear her as she took the bike through its gears, first up then down as she slowed. He started to relax as he realized the engine was getting louder again and put his helmet back on. He put his hands in his pockets, letting his shoulders slump a bit and trying to feign an air of nonchalance as she pulled up in front of him and killed the engine. She put the stand down, leaning the bike on it carefully before getting off and rushing to him. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly, making him stagger back in surprise.

"Dolcezza?" he said, his voice tentative as his arms came around her shoulders.

"That was amazing, Damien. Thank you." Her voice was muffled behind her helmet, but he heard her clearly.

"You're welcome," he chuckled.

"Now take me for a ride," she demanded, stepping out of his arms and moving back to the bike.

"Are you sure?" he asked, smiling as he walked over and mounted the bike. He righted it and turned his head, nodding for her to climb on.

"I don't know, cowboy," she said, laughing as she climbed on behind him. "I mean, this is a lot of power between my thighs." She squeezed him with her legs, wrapping her arms around his middle as he laughed and turned on the engine.

Damien turned the bike around and started down the road towards the highway. He went at an easy pace down the hardpan, conscious of the woman behind him. He pulled out on the highway and turned the bike loose, laughing along with Charlie's squeal of delight. They rode fast, heading north for about twenty minutes, away from the town, when Damien slowed and turned onto an oiled and graveled road. It was bumpier, but not potholed, and he could hear Charlie laughing behind him as they made their way. He came to the end of the road and rolled to a stop, turning the bike off.

Charlie climbed off, undoing the chinstrap and pulling her helmet off. She tucked it under her arm and looked around. "Where are we?" she asked, looking up at a screen of trees that met the road. They seemed impenetrable to her.

"Near the edge of the ranch property," he said, clipping his helmet to the loop. He turned and took her helmet from under her arm and placed it on the seat.

"This is still ranch land?" she asked, a bit awed at the sheer size of it.

"Uh huh," he said as he unfastened the buckles on the left saddlebag and pulled out the blanket. He handed it to her before moving to dig into the right saddlebag and pulling out the sack. "Come on, I want to show you something." He grabbed her hand and started walking through the trees as if he knew exactly where he was going.

"Tradition is very important to us, Charlie. It's a link to the past, to our history." He stepped over a fallen, half rotted tree before turning and helping her over it. "We live such long lives, our traditions help to keep us rooted, to keep us -- the whole pack -- strong." Charlie followed behind him, her left hand in his and the blanket tucked under her right arm and nodded before realizing he probably couldn't hear that.

"That makes a lot of sense, actually. I can see where living through so many changes would be difficult if you didn't have such firm traditions to fall back on."

"Exactly," he said, stopping to raise her hand to his mouth and kiss her knuckles, his eyes watching her intently. "Come on. Almost there," he said, turning and starting off again.

"Where?"

"Just wait," he said, weaving them between giant cedars, following a trail only he could see. After a few more minutes they came out into a huge clearing, ringed by a forest of tall cedars and pines with a dense carpeting of ferns. In the center of the clearing was a large slab of stone propped up on two small boulders, about eighteen inches off the ground. The area was bathed in the subtle silver light of the waning moon.

"What is this?" Charlie asked. She felt in awe of the scene, and her voice was just above a whisper.

"This is the ceremonial grounds." He gave her hand a squeeze as he tugged her towards the stone slab in the center. "This is where our ceremony will take place and, once we're mated our names will be inscribed here," he gestured at the large slab behind him. "Every mating since the founding of the pack more than a thousand years ago has been inscribed on this stone."

"Really?" she asked, looking at it reverently. She raised her hand, wanting to trace the carvings, and hesitated. "Can I?" she asked, looking at him closely. She wasn't sure if there was something about humans touching it and she didn't want to assume it was alright.

"I don't know....can you?" Damien teased.

"Oh, very funny," she snorted, shaking her head. "May I?"

"Of course you may, Charlie." He stepped right up to the slab with her, walking around it and pointing out the names of those she knew, and members of his family. She saw his parents -- David and Diane -- as well as Darian and Eva, but not his sister.

"Why isn't your sister here? She's part of the pack, isn't she?"

"Yes and no," Damien said, leading her back a bit from the stone.

"Yes and no?"

"She is, of course, part of this pack. This family. But she is mated to someone in another pack, Grant Copley, and is now a part of that pack. When their mating occurred, it occurred there." He put the sack down and took the blanket from her, unrolling it and spreading it out on the ground.

"Oh. I see." She watched him kneel on the blanket and let him pull her down next to him.

"It's beautiful, Damien," she said quietly, looking around the clearing. He had taken two sandwiches, a plastic container of sliced fruit and two cans of Coke out of the sack and placed them on the blanket between them. "It's important, isn't it? To be inscribed here?"

"It ties us, Charlie, you and me, to all who came before us, and all who come after us. Our children and their mates, our children's children and their mates. It's a symbol of how we are all bound to each other."

"Thank you for showing this to me," Charlie said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. His hair was down around his face and still damp, but she could see the affection in his eyes clearly.

They ate their picnic dinner slowly, talking about everything and nothing. Charlie was surprised to find out he knew how to swing dance, but not surprised to find out one of his favorite bands was Nine Inch Nails, teasing him about how it fit his brooding persona. He managed to shock her when he admitted Jane Austen was one of his favorite authors, and she had him nearly rolling with laughter as she admitted her all-time favorite movie was Freaky Friday. They finished, putting their garbage and leftovers back in the sack, and lay together on the blanket, talking and kissing, their arms and legs wrapped around each other.

Their kisses slowly changed from lazy to passionate, as their hands started to roam each other's body, tugging at clothes. Their passion grew, but they remained tender with each other, murmuring and cooing as they explored with their hands. When Damien finally rolled on top of Charlie, slipping inside her slowly, she sighed, her eyes locked with his and her legs coming up to wrap around his hips.

He moved in and out of her slowly, watching her face as his movements built the heat and friction between them. She was snug around him, fitting to his contours perfectly.

"Oh god, Damien, you feel so good inside me," she whispered, using his hips as leverage and moving with him.

"You're made for me, my Charlotte. Mine," he sighed, twining his fingers in hers next to her head. "A perfect fit, just for me."

"Yes, Damien." She started to tense around him, close to coming. "Perfect."

"You're mine," he panted. He could tell she was getting close and sped up his rhythm, a shiver running down his spine at her moan.

"Yes. Yes. Yours. All yours." She threw her head back and closed her eyes.

"Look at me, my Charlotte. Look at me as you come."

"Oh god, Damien. Please. Please." She opened her eyes briefly at his words, but they slammed shut again as she quaked around him. She let loose a long, wavering moan and dug her heels into his hips as she came.

Damien's eyes rolled back as he thrust into her again, his hips jerking against her as he grunted and came inside her. He took a deep, shuddering breath and thrust a few more times, his cock twitching in time with the clenching of her pussy around him, opening his eyes and watching her face. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and she looked at him from under heavy lids, smiling. He bent his head and kissed her softly before rolling off of her and pulling her to him. She laid her head on his chest and they lay there in the clearing, talking and touching, the moon moving past the tree line and casting them in darkness before they finally dressed and made their way home. They fell into bed, wrapping around each other and falling asleep quickly.