Revolting

"Wow, that's a beautiful buck," Frankie's eyes lit up as Michael dumped the stag onto the ground a little way outside of camp. Everyone was practically salivating over the prospect of feasting on fresh venison. Lonnie and Boyd brought out their knives and went to work butchering the kill. "You can thank Hannah," Michael said proudly as his eyes followed his little mate.

"I guess all this time she's been alone, she got pretty good at hunting," Frankie said, scratching at his beard.

Michael caught Hannah's hand. She didn't flinch or pull away, just looked up at him with an inquiring expression. "There's a small pond down there," he gestured down the hill. "Let's go get cleaned up. These guys can handle dinner." He couldn't tell if she understood or not, but when he picked up his pack, she followed him.

She still seemed uneasy and restless, Michael noted. When they flushed a partridge out of the bush, she jumped and crouched and looked ready to either fight or run away. She watched the bird's noisy ascent with narrowed eyes, and still scanned the woods all around like she expected something more sinister was hiding in the creeping shadows.

Below them a family of beavers had dammed up a small stream to create a small pond. Michael lead the way down the bank to a shallow, rocky bottomed spot. He stripped off his clothes until he was wearing only underwear and waded into the ice-cold water with a shiver. "Come on!" He gestured to her with a grin, "the water is lovely!"

She stood on the bank and gave him a look that clearly said, "Are you crazy?"

He cupped water and used it to clean the deer's blood off from his skin. He was glad he had kept his boxers on, as the cold water was not doing flattering things to his manhood at the moment. Hannah pulled off her clothes and crept doubtfully up to the edge. She didn't have any under garments so she was completely naked. She tested the water with her toes and squealed in disgust. She shot him a dirty look that made him chuckle. "Come on, buttercup! I'm guessing it's been a pretty long time since you had a good bath." He waded to the bank and dug around in his bag until he came out with the sweet smelling bar of soap. He snagged her wrist on the way back, and dragged her back into the water with him.

She growled and snarled and tried to twist her arm out of his grip, but he held tight. "Now come on, sweetheart," he said with a charming smile, "You had no problem going in the water when you were trying to kill me in the ravine, remember?" He held her captive with one hand and dipped his bar of soap in the icy water with the other. At first she yelped and squirmed, but after a few minutes she seemed to understand what he was trying to do.

"See, that's it!" Michael cooed to her like she was a child as he used his hands to soap her body. She allowed him to run his big hands over her skin as she stood knee-deep and shivering in the water. When his hands crept too close to the thatch of dark blond curls between her legs, she swatted his hand away. "Okay, okay," he conceded with another chuckle. "You want to do me now?" he extended the bar of soap to her.

She took the slippery bar uncertainly. He turned around and crouched down so that she could reach his shoulders and back, and waited. After a moment he heard a little splashing and felt the ice cold water hit his back. He closed his eyes as her tiny warm hands smoothed the lathered the soap over his skin. He stood when she reached the edge of his boxer shorts.

Michael groaned. Even the ice-cold water couldn't stop the fire that her little hands were starting as she moved purposely over his body. He turned around, intent to take the bar of soap from her and finish the job himself, but she refused to turn it over. Instead, with a very serious expression of concentration she started working the soap over his torso. She made an impatient gesture toward the water, clearly indicating she wanted him to squat down again.

Michael swallowed and complied, but the position put his face dangerously close to her center. He could smell the sweet, musky scent of her arousal, and his inner wolf was going crazy-mad with desire. Hannah, however was all business, as she lifted his heavily muscled arm and began scrubbing his arm-pit vigorously. When she finished one, she shifted to the other side, pushing his arm up with a grunt.

He couldn't help himself. He reached out with his other hand and caressed her shoulder, and then moved carefully down to her small, perky little breasts. She went perfectly still under his touch. He cupped his hands in the water and brought it up to pour over her chest, and then used his hands to wipe away the soap he had left there.

Hannah shuddered, whether from the cold water, or her own desire, Michael couldn't tell, but he could tell by her changing pheromones that she was aroused by their mutual bathing. He continued to use his hands to bring water to her body, and then slowly wipe it back off, her shoulders, her slender arms, her small breasts, her tiny waist. Slowly, and sensually he rinsed away all the soap residue. He slipped his arms around behind her hips and drew her closer, while he was still in that awkward squatting position. He pulled her head down toward this for a kiss.

Her breath was hot against his face, her honey-golden eyes dark and unreadable as darkness was closing in for the night. She closed the space between him and brought her mouth down hungrily against his. She let her free hand delve into the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other hand still gripped the bar of soap. Despite the cold water, a wave of heat was building between them. Michael's hand fell to her hip, down her slight but muscular thigh, and then began to creep back up the sensitive skin of her inner leg. The need to touch her, to taste her, to possess her was drowning him. Her sweet mouth was devouring him, her teeth nipping lightly at his lips, her hand holding the back of his neck so that he couldn't pull his head away even if he wanted to.

His fingers brushed against the soft curls at her core, and she went utterly and perfectly still. Her mouth pulled away from him and she stared down at him. "Hannah," his voice came out hoarsely, "If you only knew how badly I need you." His finger grazed across her lower lips.

She moved so fast. One moment Michael was caressing her naked body, and the next moment she had shoved him hard against his shoulders. In his awkward squatting position on the slippery rocks under the water he couldn't catch his balance and he went crashing backwards into the ice-cold water. The ice water closed over his head before he jumped up sputtering and swearing completely drenched and shivering.

Hannah had already leapt onto the shore. She looked back at him where he stood shivering and growling looking both outraged and surprised. She hugged herself against the chill air, threw back her head, and laughed. Michael's heart stumbled and stopped at the sound of her laughter. He had never heard a sweeter sound in all his life. He sloshed out of the pond with a grumble, but the fact was, he would gladly plunge himself into glacier waters all over again just to hear the merry, bubbly sound of her laugh. He growled and made a move like he was going to grab her, but she only threw the soap at him before she scooped up her clothes and darted back into the woods with another angelic- sounding laugh.

Michael smiled after her and shook his head as he stripped off his wet boxers and pulled clean clothes out of his pack. He had just pulled a clean dry shirt over his head when his whole body jerked involuntarily and his head snapped back in the direction that Hannah had disappeared. He dropped his pack and immediately began to run, his heart thudding heavily against his ribs. Something was wrong... he sensed danger, and he felt Hannah's fear. He crashed through the underbrush noisily, moving more like an angry grizzly bear than a graceful wolf. "Hannah!" he yelled into the darkness, but of course she didn't answer him.

There was a whizzing sound just a moment before a sharp pain exploded in his shoulder. He glanced down at the arrow in disbelief. He slid behind a large pine as he broke off the protruding shaft and looked at the fletching. "Fucking hunters!" He growled, his panic rising. He needed to alert the others. If he'd still been the legitimate alpha of a pack, he could have mind-linked his fellows. But now as a rogue he didn't have that ability. He put his hands beside his mouth and bellowed out a shout, "HUNTERS!" He gave away his position, and more arrows whizzed around him. He only prayed that the other's had heard him in time. But where was Hannah? He had to find her, he had to protect her, and nothing else mattered.