by Rebecca York
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Not afraid.”
“Then what?”
“You sprang a couple of nasty surprises on me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have any choices. I couldn’t tell you about the incident with the guard. Or about my heritage. Not when microphones could pick up what I said.”
“The incident with the guard! You killed him.”
“Like you killed Stella in the hall outside the docking area.”
She sighed. “Right.” After a little hesitation, she asked, “Who killed the guard? You or the wolf?”
“I am the wolf.”
“And which one was it last night?”
“The wolf. I woke up in a stateroom—as a wolf. I didn’t remember getting that way. Then the guy came in with a gun, and I reacted.”
“And then what?”
“I changed back to human form, wrapped him in the bedspread and managed to carry him up a flight of stairs to the next deck, where I dumped him overboard. Do you need to know anything else about it?”
“No. And we’re getting away from what I wanted to talk about here.”
He wanted to say that the direction of the conversation wasn’t his fault, but he figured that pointing it out was a bad idea.
She kept her gaze fixed on him. “Before we went to the Windward, you said that you had to be the dominant member of our pretend relationship.”
“What about it?” he answered, not liking where this was leading.
“What about our real relationship?”
“What are you asking, exactly?”
“If we’re going to . . . stay together, I have to know that there’s complete trust between us.”
“I trust you.”
“I don’t think I can take your word for that.”
“I was willing to die to protect you.”
He saw her swallow. “That was when we were in bad trouble.”
“I love you. Nothing’s changed. For me.”
“You’re going to have to prove that.”
“How?”
“By doing what you said you couldn’t do. Putting yourself in my power.”
He knew she was trying to come across as bold when she raised her chin and said. “Let me set up another little game for us to play. Where I’m in total charge of your body.”
He tipped his head to one side, as he considered the implications. “As in . . . uh . . . bondage?”
“Damn straight.”
“What . . . uh . . . do you have in mind?”
She stiffened her posture and made her voice authoritative. “If I spell it out, then doing it won’t mean anything.”
“So you want to test me?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t like it. Ever since he’d left his home pack—his father’s pack—he’d been the alpha wolf in his own domain. That meant something to him, but he understood where she was coming from. And he also understood that she was his mate, and the idea of living without her was too painful to contemplate. Which left him no choice but to do what she asked.
His mouth was so dry he could hardly speak, but he managed to say, “Let’s get it over with.”
“Okay, then. I want you naked on your back on that bed. With your arms spread-eagled. I’m going to tie you down, and I expect you to stay that way, until I release you.”
Well, that would certainly be a demonstration of trust.
She picked up the bag with the items she’d bought and marched past him into one of the bedrooms where she yanked off the spread and top sheet.
Whirling back to him, she said, “Either take off your clothes, and lie down. Or walk out the door if you want it to be over between us.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“No,” Cole whispered.
“No, what?”
“I’m not leaving. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I love you.”
He knew she was holding her breath, and when he pulled off his shirt, she let the air out of her lungs.
When he tossed his shirt onto the chair, he could see her sweeping her gaze over his broad chest. She kept up the scrutiny as he kicked off his shoes, then removed his jeans and briefs.
He wished this game of hers wasn’t arousing him, but there was no way to hide the erection that was now standing out from his body.
She didn’t comment on that, but she made her voice commanding, apparently in keeping with the role she had set herself to play.
“Lie down.”
He did as she asked.
“Spread your arms and legs.”
He did that, too, watching as she pulled four brightly colored scarves from the bag she’d set on the floor. Quickly she tied them to the straps on the side of the mattress.
Probably he could have pulled himself loose, but he let her have her way, even when he couldn’t stop the pounding of his heart.
As he lay in that totally vulnerable position, waiting to find out what would happen next, she took a step back and began to unbutton her shirt. Decorah Security must have packed some sexy underwear in her bag, because she was wearing a peach colored bra that didn’t do much to hide her breasts.
Next she took off her slacks, revealing her matching panties.
Standing beside the bed, she looked down at him and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Her beautiful breasts sprang free, so close to him he could touch them, if he weren’t tied down.
Languidly, she lifted them as though she were offering them to him, watching his face as she did.
When his breath caught, she reached down and lightly stroked her finger along the length of his rock-hard cock, giving him a jolt of sensation.
Had she gotten the idea from the Mayan ceremony? He wasn’t going to ask. At least not yet.
As he watched, she took out one more scarf, with black and white flowers. When she folded it into a long strip, laid it over his eyes and tied it at the side of his head, he felt another jolt—this time of alarm.
“What are you doing?”
“I think it’s obvious. Can you see?”
“No.”
“Good. And I don’t want you to speak again until I give you permission. Nod if you agree.”
He nodded and pressed his lips together, hating this. Well, hating it but turned on, too. He’d never imagined Emma Richards doing anything like this. And never imagined himself in this situation, either.
“Nice. Very nice,” she murmured. “Do you know, you look very sexy like that.”
If she could have seen his eyes, she would have known he was glaring in the direction of her voice.
“I think I know what you’d like me to do, but you’re going to have to wait for that,” she murmured, as she sat down on the side of the bed, stroking his shoulders, combing her fingers through the hair on his chest before finding his nipples, squeezing and pulling on them until he couldn’t hold back a moan.
Her hands drifted lower, over his ribs, down his body, sliding over his thighs, avoiding his aching cock.
He was in an agony of need, and if he hadn’t agreed to her game, he would have ripped his hands free of the scarves and grabbed her.
The priests at the Mayan ceremony had used feathers on the woman. Apparently she had those, too, because he felt their tickle against his ribs, then his belly, then his cock.
“It’s a cat toy,” she said, unable to keep a little chuckle out of her voice as she tickled under his arms, on the bottoms of his feet, then back and forth against his penis again.
His hips bucked, telling her he needed more.
But she ignored the entreaty.
“You’re very aroused, aren’t you,” she murmured. “You don’t have to answer that. I can tell,” she said, as she touched the drop of moisture at the end of his cock, then rubbed onto the head.
He couldn’t hold back a groan.
When she stroked her finger lightly up and down his shaft, he wanted to beg her to grasp him in her hand. But she only kept up the maddening stroking before re
aching lower and fondling his balls.
Again he groaned.
“I could straddle you,” she murmured. “I know you’d like to be inside me now. This is turning me on, too. I’m all wet and slippery. All ready for you.”
He made a pleading sound.
“Maybe later.”
She went away, and he bit his lip to keep from calling her back. He could hear her riffling through the bag she’d brought and wondered what new torture she was planning.
“You need to be punished for the way you lied to me.”
Punished, how?
He heard a sound not unlike a whip cracking before something came flying down on his shoulder. Only the business end was broader than a whip. And shorter.
As he tried to figure out what it was, he almost laughed. Jesus, it must be a fly swatter.
Laughter fled when she whipped his shoulders and chest hard enough to sting, but he took it in silence.
When she went to lighter swats on his cock, the little stinging blows only increased his arousal.
She stopped abruptly, and he wondered what torture she was going to perpetrate next. Not being able to see was the worst part. But obviously she’d planned it that way.
The mattress shifted and he felt her come down beside him on the bed.
In the next moment, something cold and sharp poked against his neck. A knife.
When she pressed the blade more firmly against his skin, he lay absolutely still, his heart pounding.
After all that, was she going to kill him. Was that her way of getting out of the relationship? If she didn’t want to be with him, maybe that was the best thing.
Those thoughts made no sense, not if she really did love him. Still, they went through his mind as he waited with his pulse pounding to find out what she was planning.
When he heard her sob, his heart lurched inside his chest. Would she kill him? Kill them both because the thought of being a werewolf’s mate was too much for her to take?
“Oh Lord, Cole,” she sobbed out, and he heard the knife bounce onto the rug. “I thought I was being so clever. I thought I could do this to make you understand how much you scared me. To make you feel it. Like I did. but I can’t. Punishing you is like punishing myself.”
Frantically she pulled at the scarf that covered his face, tugging it over his head so that her eyes could meet his.
“Oh, Cole. Cole.”
As she took off the blindfold, he ripped at the bindings on his wrists and ankles, easily freeing himself as he reached for her, clasping her to him. She came willingly, then brought her mouth down to his for a frantic kiss.
He held on to her as though his life depended on it, rocking her in his arms, his hands skimming over her back, into her hair, then cupping the back of her head.
She moaned into his mouth, her own arms clasping him tightly as they rocked together on the bed, frantic to get close to each other and closer still.
As they held each other for long moments, he knew what he had hoped was true. She wanted to be his mate.
And he would tell her how much that meant to him, then tell her all the things he had neglected to explain.
But first, he would claim her for his own in a way he hadn’t been able to do on the ship. Freely, joyfully, completely.
He eased far enough away so that his hand could drift down her body and dip into the moist heat between her legs. She cried out in pleasure as he parted her most intimate flesh so that he could take a gliding trip from her vagina to her clit, then back again, as he watched her face, drinking in her reaction.
“Oh Cole, Cole. I know I belong to you.”
The words thrilled him.
“No more than I belong to you,” he answered, fighting to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. “I want to make you understand how much that means to me.”
“Then make love to me. Now.”
She reached out, pulling him on top of her and at the same time guiding him inside.
All at once, he was there, feeling the tight caress of her sheath. And his only choice was to move his hips, sending a surge of sensation through both of them.
The intensity of their joining swept over them, their hips rising and falling, creating friction that drove them toward a rocketing climax he had never imagined.
Right here. Right now. The two of them flying into a world of heat and light where their only option was to cling to each other.
This was what he had always longed for, even when he hadn’t known it.
The firestorm swept over them, leaving them both limp and breathless.
When they came back to earth, he shifted his side, taking her with him, holding her in his arms.
“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he whispered. “I kept fighting it. But eventually, this would have happened. Even without that trip through the dark corridors of the Windward.”
“The ship made it impossible for us to keep . . . rubbing each other the wrong way.”
“I hope you can accept me for what I am.”
“I think I have to.” She looked up at him, her eyes dark with emotion. “Even when I don’t know much about it yet.”
“I’ll tell you everything. Anything.”
“Do you, uh, turn into a wolf when the moon is full?”
He shook his head. “Only when I want to. Forget about all the old myths.” He cleared his throat. “In my family, the men go through their first change at puberty.” He paused before the next part. “Only about half survive.”
“Oh no. That’s so sad.”
“But my cousin, Ross Marshall, is married to a geneticist who’s working on improving the odds.”
“What about the girls?”
“It’s a sex-linked trait. Until Ross and Megan had a daughter, no girls survived.”
“That’s . . . just as bad.”
“Yeah, it was the family curse for generations. That and the survival rate of the boys. The modern werewolf has advantages over his savage ancestors.”
She answered with a little nod.
He cleared his throat. “Around the age of thirty, the Marshall men start looking for a lifemate. I knew it was you almost as soon as we met, only I fought it because I didn’t exactly have a rosy family life. But I didn’t know how strongly I’d feel about you. When you were in danger on that damn ship, I knew I’d die if anything happened to you.”
She kept her gaze steady. “Is that why I feel the same way about you? Because I’m your mate? And some kind of instinct has taken over?”
“My lifemate. Wolves mate for life.” He reached for her hand and knit his fingers with hers. “We bonded because of the strong attraction we felt right from the beginning.”
It’s a compulsion?”
“It’s like any two people meeting and falling in love. Only better.”
She nodded, but he could see she was still full of questions.
“Does Frank Decorah know about the wolf?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Six years ago, he found a wounded wolf in the woods, shot by a hunter. He took it home and called a vet who removed the bullet. While the wolf was recovering, he kept it in a cage, but it got an infection and its temperature spiked. While the wolf was feverish, it changed into a man.”
“That must have been . . . awkward.”
He laughed. “It was. But Frank’s a guy who rolls with the punches. He accepted me.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “Actually, he was like a father to me. Maybe that was because he’d lost Karen, and that left a gap in his life.”
Emma nodded.
“Unfortunately, my own father’s someone you don’t want to spend much time with, but Frank treated me like a son. Before I met him, I was in a dead-end job, working for a wilderness outfitter company. He saw the potential in me. He paid for my college education—and a masters in criminal justice.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, that’s one reason I’m so loyal to him. The other is that he h
ad more faith in me than I had in myself.”
“I understand. But I think he also knew that he’d be getting an outstanding operative. He knew you’d be a fantastic addition to Decorah Security.
“I know that, too. Working for him gave me a focus that I never had before.”
She squeezed his hand.
“He knew I’d be right for this assignment. Then I found out he was sending you, and my heart lurched.”
“It worked out.” She met his gaze. “Because we’re an excellent team. He understood that, too. Not just for this assignment.”
“I’m thinking he was hoping he could get us together. And he didn’t know he was damn near getting us killed.”
She settled down beside him, burrowing close.
He held on to her, knowing how lucky he was to have her. They still had problems to iron out. But they would, because they both wanted the relationship to work.
“I used to wonder why you hadn’t paired up with anyone,” he murmured.
“No one was right for me. Dominant men reminded me of my father. And the nice guys were boring.”
“I’m not a nice guy?”
“Nicer than I thought you’d be.”
“Thanks. Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
“I thought I’d never marry,” she murmured. “I thought my life would be all about my job.” She turned her head toward him. “Amazing how quickly that changed.”
“That’s a yes?” he asked, wanting to nail down the answer.
“Yes.”
He held her tightly as he asked. “But you want to keep working?”
“Are you going to object to that?”
“I won’t stop you. But I’ll be biting my claws if you get into anything like the Windward assignment again.”
“No more than I’ll worry about you.”
‘We don’t have to settle everything now,” he said. “Just so I know you belong to me—and I belong to you.”
“I like it that you included the last part.”
He reached for her hand. “There’s no other woman I want. There never will be again. Only you. My lifemate.”
“Yes.”
“We’ve got time off, and I don’t want to waste any of it.” He rose up, looking down at her and grinning. “That feather thing is pretty sexy, even if it is a cat toy. Want to see how it feels?”