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hair that brushed against her flattened breasts, tickling her pebbled nipples and making her squirm beneath him. Ooh, he liked that, did he? Another groan let her know.
    Sherrie let go of his ass and slid her hands up his back to his shoulders before plunging one hand into his hair. The strands slipped between her fingers as she gripped his skull, hard bone beneath feather-soft hair. For a second she flashed on how soft his fur had felt when she’d pushed away his wolf-shaped body.
    God, had that actually happened? It seemed like a dream now—yet not, because she swore she could feel the animal in him even now, a wildness barely restrained and releasing more with every plunge that filled her body.
    Faster, harder, deeper, he fucked her. She thrust back as she begged aloud for more, “Go! Harder!” and “Yes, right there” when he rammed into a spot that sent pleasure spiking through her.
    Again he growled. His mouth, which had been pressed open and damp against her shoulder, clamped down. His teeth bit hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to break skin. The pain burst through her at the same moment as her climax, pain and pleasure twisting together, becoming one as she howled her release and writhed beneath him.
    With one last thrust, John froze, and Sherrie felt the swell of his cock in the grip of her inner muscles, the gush of warmth as he came. She groaned and drew a long breath, her sweat-slicked body sticking to his.
    Wetness seeped out of her pussy to pool on the sleeping bag. It was messy and sexy and real.
    As if waking from a pornographic dream, she became aware of what she’d done—had sex with a shape-changing stranger. She waited for alarm, guilt, horror and shame to flood her, but none of them showed. In fact, she still felt elated, flying high on endorphins and the blissful remnants of her climax. With a contented sigh, she loosened her grip on his shoulder and the fistful of his hair.
    He kissed her where his teeth had scored her flesh and lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Okay?”
    “Mm,” she acknowledged.
    “Sorry about…” He dipped his chin, indicating her shoulder.
    She shook her head. “No. It’s good.” She grinned. “Really good. I’ve never felt anything quite like that. It was, uh, intense.”
    A small smile played over his lips, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled off her and lay on his back beside her on the narrow futon. He stretched an arm over his head and stared at the rough-hewn boards of the ceiling.
    Sherrie lay with a hand resting on her chest, feeling the pounding of her heart and listening to the breeze outside rattling the tree branches. Sweat evaporated from her skin, cooling her, but John’s hot body pressed against her side. She rubbed the sore spot on the crook of her neck and shoulder where he’d bitten her— Left his mark— and glanced over at him.
    “Is it always like that for, um, your people? I mean the biting and the intensity?”
    “No. Not like this.” He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and let it go. “This was something different.”
    I’ll say. She rolled onto her side facing him and rested a hand on his chest, combing her fingers through the light pelt of hair. She tried to work up some shame for fucking her abductor but couldn’t manage the least little bit. It had felt good and absolutely right.
    “This entire day has been bizarre,” she said. “I can’t say I don’t wish things could go back to normal, but I don’t regret tonight.”
    He didn’t reply, but the little smile played over his lips once more. Slipping his arm beneath her, he pulled her snug against him.
    Sherrie rested her head on his chest and continued to rub little circles on his hairy belly. “Wish I could have this with you and not worry about the rest of it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to help that little girl.”
    “We’ll figure it out. Tomorrow you can tell me again everything you saw or felt when you bonded with Liberty. There