by Amy Pennza
Even in his wildest imaginings, he couldn’t have conjured such a sight. His breath hitched and every nerve ending came alive as he surveyed the riot of beauty laid out before him.
She sprawled on a carpet of green vines and pink roses, her golden skin damp from the bath. Her face was flushed, her full lips nearly the same shade as the double-headed roses beneath her. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted, her nipples as lush and tempting as the blooms.
But he already tasted her there.
He wanted to taste her somewhere else.
For a moment, he let himself imagine what they looked like from above—him fully clothed, her gloriously nude. She watched him through narrowed eyes, the sky blue darkened to a lust-driven cobalt.
He let his gaze wander down her body, past her trembling breasts and flat belly to the sweet juncture of her thighs. Time seemed to slow as he dared to touch her there, his palm cupping the smooth mound.
“You’re bare here,” he said, his speech distorted by fangs that had descended without him realizing it.
But she understood, because she gave a tentative nod. “I prefer it.”
Fuck, so did he. So much so that he couldn’t even find words to tell her. He ran his thumb down the seam of her plump lips, brushing her clit.
She gasped and parted her thighs, flowers shuddering around her.
For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Her pussy was as gorgeous as any rose, her denuded labia like damp petals around the tight bud of her desire. Cream pooled at her entrance. Unable to resist, he put a finger there, and she jerked and moaned. Slowly, he traced a slick path around her opening, coating her with her own juices.
“Bard.”
At her gasp, he looked up, his finger still poised at her entrance.
She licked her lips. “It’s . . . been a while for me.”
There was apprehension in her gaze where there hadn’t been before. Instantly, he withdrew his hand.
“No!” She half sat up, one elbow pressed into the roses. “Don’t stop! I don’t want you to stop.” As if to prove her point, she let her thighs fall wide.
He tore his gaze from the sight, his hand clenched in a fist to stop himself from touching her. “We shouldn’t—”
“We should!” She grabbed his hand in both of hers and brought it to her chest, her soft breasts rubbing his knuckles. “Please, Bard. I didn’t mean to ruin it. Please.”
God, she sounded young. She was young. Not too young for what they were doing, but definitely too young for him. She deserved better. Someone her own age—a young, whole male who could defend her against any enemy. He tugged against her grip.
She jerked him right back, then grasped his jaw with strong fingers, forcing his gaze to hers.
Startled, he let her.
“You don’t get to do that this time,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “You don’t get to run away.”
Run? Outrage sparked in his veins. He’d never run from anything in his life. “I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” Her brows came together in a frown, and anger made her words sharp as a blade. Like a blade, they found his sore spots and twisted. “You think I’m too young for you. That I don’t know what I want.”
His own anger surged. “You don’t know what you want.”
“Yes, I do. And it’s arrogant for you to think you know what’s best for me.”
He covered her fingers with his, attempting to loosen her grip without hurting her. “Haley, listen—”
“No!” She seized his jaw in both hands, making him lose his balance and fall on top of her. They sank deeper into the flowers, petals brushing their faces.
He barely felt it. The soft curves beneath him were too distracting.
So was the angry female staring up at him, her blue eyes blazing. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging his head back in a gentle but no-nonsense grip. Her pelvis cradled his, and before he could shift away she wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him into her. “You listen, Bard Bennett.”
Well, he was now. With her thighs over his hips and her hot sex pressed against him, he was all fucking ears.
Still grasping his hair, she forced him to meet her gaze. “You think you’re protecting me, but you’re wrong. You think you’re being noble, but you aren’t.” She drew a ragged breath, and something told him she summoned every ounce of her courage to say her next words. “I’m not asking you to mate me. I know that’s not possible. I’m just asking you to stop denying what’s between us. Because something is between us, and it’s not a bad thing. It’s good and wonderful and I want to see where it goes.”
For a moment, he could only marvel at whatever capricious twist of fortune had caused such a bold, amazing female to land in his lap. He was utterly unworthy of her. His heart pounded as he stared into her eyes—the blue as clear and pure as a spring sky. When he spoke, he put every ounce of sincerity he possessed in his voice, hoping she heard the truth in his words.
“If I could mate you, I would do it in a heartbeat. No force in this world would stop me from making you mine.”
That pleased her. It was there in her eyes. But it also made her sad.
Goddammit, he couldn’t bear to see her sad.
It hurt to breathe. Maybe because his heart was breaking. Voice hoarse, he said, “I can’t give you everything you need.”
She released his hair and trailed her fingertips over his face, down his scars and the eye patch he’d hated for twenty years.
“I don’t need everything,” she whispered, and she offered him the sweetest, saddest smile. “I just need you to kiss me.”
In that moment, he knew three things.
Kissing her would be a mistake.
They would both regret it.
He was going to do it anyway.
Gaze on hers, he let power fill his voice. “Open your legs.”
Her eyes widened as she complied, unable to refuse the order. At the same time, her nipples hardened against his chest and her desire filled the air, the sweet scent blending with the roses.
Dark satisfaction curled through him, and he drew on his power a little more. “Wider.”
Her lips parted. Her heart rate kicked up. She shifted beneath him, spreading her thighs, her sex making a soft wet sound as it opened.
He lifted himself above her, then moved down her body, planting soft kisses on her neck, her chest, her belly. As he reached her sex, she sucked in a breath.
“Bard?”
“Hush.” He kissed the top of her mound.
She jerked. “Bard.”
Lips hovering above her sex, he looked up and crooked a brow. “You asked me to kiss you, did you not?”
“Y-Yes.”
He lowered his gaze to the luscious sight of her wet pussy, the lips pink and glistening. “You didn’t say where.”
She let out a sob. Moisture gathered at her opening.
Drawing on his power once more, he gave her an order. “Keep them open.”
Her response was another breathless sob. More cream seeped from her entrance.
Using his thumbs, he spread her apart, exposing all her secrets.
Above him, flowers rustled. He glanced up. She’d put her arms above her head. Her nipples had darkened to a deep magenta, and they stabbed the air like ripe berries. He took a minute to admire the erotic sight, then turned his gaze back to the task before him.
And what a task. What a lucky, lucky bastard he was. Thumbs holding her open, he licked straight up her center, lapping the cream she’d made for him.
Her thighs spasmed, and she gave a strangled cry.
He gave her another pass, nearly moaning as her sweet taste burst on his tongue. Her little clit beckoned, and he took it in his mouth, nibbling the bud as he had her nipples.
She moaned, wriggling against his lips.
He gave her another couple gentle bites, then slid a finger inside her. Immediately, her pussy clenched around him, her core slick and hot. Bracing his weight on his g
ood knee, he drew back so he could see all of her.
Good fucking decision.
He’d called her Aphrodite before. It didn’t do her justice.
Her hair had come loose from its makeshift bun, and it fanned around her head, the glossy curls threaded with roses. She flung her arms above her head in wild abandon, and her head was turned to the side, her eyes shut as she made quick, breathless moans. Her long legs were stretched apart, her wet sex displayed like the center of a feast. Moisture smeared her mound and lips, glistening in the soft light from the window.
Gaze on her face, he gave her pussy a couple shallow pumps, his finger plunging in and out of her cream.
She let out another hoarse cry, the tendons in her neck straining. Meanwhile, her legs remained splayed, her body helpless to disobey his order.
Watching her face for any sign of discomfort, he added another finger, giving her little pumps as he went, stretching her as gently as possible. It was a tight fit, and she bit her lower lip, but she accommodated him, her pussy squeezing and pulsing.
He turned his hand so the base of his palm covered her clit, giving her pressure as he drew his fingers in and out. Immediately, she lifted her hips, thrusting her clit harder against his hand.
He chuckled. “All in good time, baby.”
She straightened her head, opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. “Please,” she said, her tone begging. “Please, more.”
He continued pumping her, each thrust drawing louder and wetter sounds as she drenched his fingers. He ground his palm into her clit, rubbing in small circles. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
“Ungh.” Her eyelids fluttered, the tips of her fangs showing as her mouth opened on a gasp.
He thrust his fingers again and again and again, plunging harder and faster. Her clit poked his palm, the nub hard as a rock. “I’m afraid I didn’t understand that.”
“M-More.”
In and out. In and out. In and out. Her breasts jiggled. The roses beneath her shivered.
“More what, baby? Be more specific.”
Now she glared at him, her passion-glazed eyes shooting fire. “My clit!” She delivered the command with as much force as an Alpha. “Kiss it again!”
He pulled out of her, replacing his hand with his mouth.
“Yes!” She seized his head and held his face against her as if she feared he might move away.
Not a chance. He licked and sucked her sex like he would her mouth, stroking her opening with his tongue, then plunging inside her. She gripped his hair, her voice going from panting sobs to a low-pitched screams.
He took her clit in his mouth and sucked hard.
Her thighs shook. “Yes, yes, yes.” Her chant rose around him, her voice warring with the wet, smacking sounds of her pussy as he drove her higher. Roses drenched the air. Her desire drenched the air. The table beneath them shook. Or maybe the earth shook, rattled right off its axis as she pulled his hair so hard tiny spears pierced his scalp as his hair tore from the roots.
Cream gushed into his mouth, then her scream of release rang out, bouncing off the glass walls and echoing back to him.
Still he sucked at her, greedy for whatever she could give.
Her thighs trembled and her hands fell away from his head.
Giving her one final, lazy suck, he lifted his head.
She stared at the ceiling, chest heaving, her body limp. He moved over her, and she met his gaze. When she spoke, her voice was cracked and hoarse.
“That was quite a kiss.”
Yes, he thought, sorrow brushing at the edges of mind. I had to make it one to remember.
But he didn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, he sank into the roses next to her. As he did, something stabbed his shoulder, forcing a gasp from his lungs before he could stop it.
She sat up, her hair tumbling around her. “What is it?”
He sat, too, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. But it was useless. The pain was on his right side, his field of vision a black void.
“Here, let me.” Haley leaned behind him. There was another brief pinch, then she held something small and brown between her fingers.
A thorn—long with a tapered, wicked-looking point.
He took it from her. “One must have sneaked in. No one has tended this place in years. The roses grow as they will.” He tossed it away.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I know.” Warmth spread across his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”
“But—”
He pressed his lips to hers, silencing her protests with his mouth.
She melted, easing back into the roses.
He followed her down, giving her his weight and his kiss. The warmth grew, seeping through his shirt and feeding the roses beneath them. He kissed her harder.
Another to remember.
19
Haley stood at a pair of glass doors in the conservatory and watched the sun peek over the horizon, its early morning rays scattering diamonds across the snow. She was wrapped in the blanket again, her bare toes curled against the chilly slate floor. The conservatory overlooked a deep valley bordered by soaring mountains, their jagged peaks like white arrowheads against the gray sky.
Footsteps approached behind her, and a smile spread in her mind. A moment later, Bard appeared at her side, bringing the scent of juniper and sandalwood. He wore his jacket again, the dark color the same as the silver in his hair.
“Here,” he said, handing her a ceramic mug. “I found coffee.”
She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the heat sink into her frozen fingers. Funny, she hadn’t been cold all night. It was only now that the sun was coming up that she felt the winter in her bones.
Of course, she spent the night curled next to an Alpha werewolf, his body giving off heat like a furnace.
As her cheeks heated, she couldn’t help looking over her shoulder at the bath. Dawn sunlight turned the water pink and made the surface sparkle. She let her eyes wander to the wall of flowers, where the pink blooms sprawled across a sea of green vines. Some of the roses were crushed, their petals spread open.
“Keep them open,” he’d ordered her, leaving her sprawled on the flowers while he plundered her sex.
“Too hot?” Bard asked.
She jerked around, meeting his gaze.
The coffee, she realized. He meant the coffee.
“Um, no,” she said. “Thanks.”
He nodded and sipped from his mug, his gaze going to the snow outside.
She turned back to the doors, the small movement making the flesh between her legs twinge. Heat blasted her cheeks as memories marched through her mind—Bard’s dark head buried between her thighs, his mouth working her sex. She’d been helpless to resist, and not only because he ordered her to open her legs. The wicked command might have pinned her knees apart, but his tongue had kept them there. He’d licked and sucked her sex like he loved the taste of her and couldn’t get enough. More the once the sensations had been so overwhelming she might have slammed her legs shut. But his command held them open, forcing her to submit as waves of desire thundered through her. Out of her mind with lust, she’d clung to the vines above her head while he dipped his tongue inside her and sucked hard at her clit.
And the things he’d done with his fingers . . .
Her nipples tightened under the blanket. She took a swig of coffee, wishing it had a shot of whiskey or something in it. She needed to get a grip.
“There’s whiskey in that,” he said casually.
She almost choked, which made her swallow too fast. Coffee scalded her throat, followed by the telltale fire of whiskey. “Where did you—”
“My father’s study.” Bard sipped from his mug, his gaze on the valley. “He liked to drink even though it doesn’t do much for us.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Werewolves could get drunk. It just took a lot of booze to do it. Most wolves metabolized alcohol too quickly to feel its effects. When she and Lizette
hit the bars—something that drove Max crazy—they stuck to shots. Which also drove Max crazy. Alphas were possessive to begin with. When their mate was involved?
Forget about it.
She looked at Bard out of the corner of her eye. He’d never feel possessive about her. She had to keep reminding herself. There could never be anything real between them. Sex wasn’t a relationship, and she had to be okay with that. Goodness knew they’d thoroughly covered that department.
Although, they hadn’t done everything. She’d prepared for it. Would have welcomed him as he slid inside her. But after her orgasm he simply gave her a kiss and tucked her against him, whispering for her to sleep.
He’d whispered again when it was time to wake up. But he didn’t kiss her. He just helped her off the roses, put the blanket around her shoulders, and announced he was off to find them something to eat.
It didn’t bother her. It was what she signed up for, right? Love wasn’t part of the deal. She was lucky to have gotten as much of him as she had, and she was fine with it.
She was fine.
“You should drink that,” he said, nodding to her coffee. Then he gestured outside. “You’ll need it when we hit that snow this morning.”
She nearly dropped her mug. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We have to go back. As soon as possible.”
“But . . .” She glanced outside. “There’s like six feet of snow on the ground.”
“Probably more, which is why we need to leave now. If we get another storm like last night we could get trapped here.”
She jerked her head toward the wintry scene beyond the window. “We could get trapped out there!”
Impatience flashed across his features. He spoke to her like she was a small child, his words low and spaced apart. “We can’t stay here, Haley. We don’t have any food and we’re almost out of water. But that’s just one problem. I drew on all my power to stop Sam. It won’t last. When it goes, I’ll have a hard time walking across this room let alone crossing the forest.”
She took a deep breath. “The pack is probably looking for us.”
“They’re not.”
“How can you know that?”
His gaze was steady. Hard. “They’re just not. Finish your coffee.”