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thigh and groin, then slipped two of them effortlessly beneath the damp satin that covered my crotch. The edge of one finger brushed my clit, and I gasped again, but it didn’t stop there. She teased my opening, stroking back and forth, making the muscles low in my body contract, making me wetter than I already was. But I didn’t need to be any wetter. I was ready.
    “Lenorre!” I said, somewhere between a pant and a growl. I dug my hands into the comforter on the bed as I yelled, “Please!”
    She did what I wanted her to. She gradually, oh so gradually, eased two fingers inside of me.
    “More,” I begged. “Lenorre.” I moaned as her fingers glided over a very pleasurable spot. “I need more.” My hips rose as her long, slender fingers hit the back of my cervix. Caught between pleasure and pain, I didn’t want her to stop.
    Need. I was a throbbing, pulsing, aching thing filled only with need. I needed her, my entire body trembled with need, but this, this was too slow, and too small a taste of what she was capable of doing to me. I craved chaos and oblivion, while she gave me order and acute awareness. Desire burned between my legs. Lenorre fanned that flame, made it burn brighter, more painful as she drove her fingers in and out of me. Each stroke was excruciatingly slow, making the fire stretch and grow until I felt as if it would consume me. My body ached for release.
    “So wet.”
    My muscles contracted. She hit that spot inside me and slowly began to withdraw.
    “Lenorre,” I pleaded, holding myself on my elbows. My vision blurred around the edges. In a move too quick for me to register she tore the satin underwear away with an angry hiss. She put our faces dangerously close, keeping her hand between my legs.
    “Kassandra.” Without warning she shoved her fingers inside of me. This time, there was no order, no teasing, no careful restraint. She simply fucked me with supernatural strength. Her lips were hot where they met mine, and wet, like she had just licked them. Her mouth was unyielding, with nothing chaste or gentle about it. I opened to her, spreading my legs wider, slipping my hand under her gown. I cupped her breasts and her nipples stiffened like tiny darts. Distantly, in some part of my mind I managed to hear the wooden posts of the canopy hitting the wall.
    I drove my nails into her and Lenorre broke the kiss, rearing back with a hiss that revealed her fangs. I tugged at her clothes trying to pull them from between our bodies. It took me a moment to realize that Lenorre was bracing herself with her knees, and the gown was stuck under her.
    The only way to get the dress up was to tear it, so I lowered my shields and focused on the wolf, calling her. Her warm energy pressed against the inside of my skin like soft fur. I wasn’t aiming for a full shift. What I offered her was a peek through a door with a chain and lock. Control is strength. If you can’t control your beast, it will control you. Some days, it’s an internal battle for dominance. How much the wolf fights depends on how badly she wants out. If she wants to investigate or munch on something in the immediate surroundings, it’s a little more difficult to sway her. Fortunately, Lenorre wouldn’t show up on the wolf’s radar as food. The wolf craved life, a fresh kill, not the undead.
    Energy spilled down my arm, into my hands. I gazed at her through the eyes of the wolf.
    Lenorre spared a glance between our bodies. When she raised her face, the look she gave was challenging.
    I got a better hold of the gown, digging claws into it. Her laugh thrummed through me when she saw my transformed hands and she pushed against me, forcing my hips to meet her thrusts.
    She buried her face in the bend of my neck. “I had no idea just how untamed you are.”
    My claws tore through the velvet and it gave way. The side of her dress slipped off to expose a long line of flesh from ankle to torso. Though she might not have been wearing a bra, her