Free When a Pack Dies by Gwen Campbell Page A

hesitantly lowered her head to his chest. She moved slowly, in small increments, sniffing the air around him and glancing up at him again and again, gauging his anger and wary of it. She trembled lightly when she pressed her cheek over his heart.
    Fina actually backed away from Cutler when the busty blonde started rubbing her face against his chest. With long, deliberate, gentle strokes Suzanne caressed his heavy pectorals with her cheeks, nose and chin, nuzzling him and whining so quietly Fina barely heard her. Her breasts pressed into his ribs but with boobs that big, there was no way it could be avoided. Fina was surprised the woman didn’t just fall flat on her face from the weight of them...only she’d probably bounce right back up again.
    Fina felt like booting her in the ass to test her theory.
    Fina jumped a little when Cutler’s strong hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back to his side. She tried to resist—tried to pull away from him but he held her tight and refused to let go.
    Cutler knew why Suzanne was nuzzling him. He’d been angry with her—really angry and she needed the reassurance that her Alpha’s reprimand was over—needed comforting and needed to reaffirm the bonds of Alpha and pack member between them. He held back his impatience, held himself still and waited for her anxiety to recede. When the scent of it faded, Cutler sighed quietly. “Go on, Suzanne,” he said with uncharacteristic gentleness. He tipped his head toward the huddle of six, unmated males who were standing nearby and raptly watching his dispatcher’s every move. “Before your admirers have a stroke.”
    Grinning self consciously, Suzanne lifted her head from him, glanced up at him once then lowered her eyes and walked back the way she’d come.
    When she left, Cutler filled his lungs slowly then exhaled. Suzanne’s scent was fresh on him, light, healthy, fertile and undeniably female—but hers wasn’t the scent he wanted. His wolf snapped its jaws angrily and prowled through his head, trying to get away from the scent of this interloper and locate the smell of its mate again. Cutler tightened his grip on Fina’s wrist and drew her closer.
    “Mark me,” he growled, dipping his face and rubbing his rough cheek across the side of her face. He slid his free hand around her waist and pulled her into him, overpowering her strength easily, holding her small, warm body against his. “I want your scent on me. I need it,” he snarled. Cutler let go of her wrist, wrapped his hand around the back of her head, stood up to his full height and drew her face to him.
    He threw back his head and let his wolf’s growl reverberate through his still-human larynx. It was a frightening sound—part man and part animal but the cry was picked up by other male werewolves throughout the clearing. The wolves inside them trumpeted their strength and vigor in anticipation of the rising moon.
    Trembling from head to toe, Fina rubbed her face over Cutler’s chest, reveling in the scratchiness of his hair, drinking in the heat of his body, letting the beating of his heart overwhelm her hearing. The pulsing filled her head and her blood began to pound in her ears in time with it. She opened her mouth, dragged her lips over him, moving faster now. She gripped his thick biceps, dug her fingers into him, stretched up onto her toes so she could reach more of him, flipped her head back and forth and painted him with her scent.
    Cutler held himself absolutely still except for his head. It lolled back and his eyes gazed unseeing at the stars. He willed his skin to drink her in and let his arms fall helplessly to his sides as his mate touched him.
    The other woman’s scent on Cutler’s body receded, replaced by her own and Fina growled. A low, continuous sound she’d never made before—hadn’t even known she was capable of. It was a song of possession, intent and need and a rational part of her wondered why this formidable Alpha didn’t just