A Werewolf to Call Her Own ( Mystic Isle#2)

by Selena Blake

  Tongue against tongue, mouth against mouth, chest against chest. He took and she gave, moaning softly. He couldn’t get enough. She was so innocent. So sweet. And about to be his.

  Ceara soaked in Maxim’s warmth and let her hands roam. The definition and strength of his muscles thrilled her. He was so big, made her feel small and protected as he carried her to his bed.

  His bed.

  She shivered and pulled back so she could look at him. Take him in. Being in his arms, carried by him, was one of the most thrilling experiences of her life. Until this moment, she’d seen women get swept away in movies, read about it in books, longed to experience it herself… but like everything else, it was new to her.

  “Stop thinking,” he murmured against her throat. “Just feel.”

  She smiled at his commands. He was right. She did think too much.

  Letting out a slow sigh, she murmured an apology and then rained kisses over his face. He didn’t say a word, merely continued on his path. She sensed his urgency. Felt him trained on his destination like a missile.

  She felt a similar urgency; she needed to feel him. All of him, at last. And see him too. She wasn’t unsure of what to expect. She’d studied art enough to be familiar with the male form. But he was so much more.

  Taller, wider, harder, more intense than she’d ever thought her lover would be.

  She wanted to kiss him all over, nip and lick him. No reason she couldn’t start now. She started to nibble his ear but his voice rumbled through her mind.

  I want that too.

  She smiled against his neck. He was in. She didn’t want to push him out. Having him read her mind was incredibly intimate, the ultimate stimulant.

  Then hurry, she replied.

  She was on her back, staring up at the ceiling a second later. Then he was over her, joining her, his hands all over, stroking and caressing. She reached for the hem of his polo shirt and jerked it upward.

  Need to feel you. You’re so warm.

  And you’re so cool.

  He licked a trail from her right ear down to the valley between her breasts. She shivered and her nipples hardened.

  Don’t worry little vamp, I’ll warm you up.

  He didn’t lie.

  He whipped his shirt off, then came back down to kiss her. His big body pinned her against the bed, warming her slowly. She accepted his weight, wrapping her arms and legs around him, loving how solid he felt. Real. He kissed her again. Hot, wet, plenty of tongue. A precursor, she knew, of what was to come. Her body was ready. Soft and wet. And anxious for the hard protrusion rubbing ever so slowly against her pussy.

  His hands cupped her breasts but she was impatient for more. Skin against skin.

  She knew he heard her thought because he pulled back an arm’s length. His dark eyes held her immobile for a long second. Then another. What was he waiting for?

  “Maxim --”

  “I know…” There was another long pause. And then he was on her, kissing her clavicle, down her chest. Each place he kissed warmed. “But you must be prepared,” he said against her bare skin.

  “I am!” He had no idea how prepared she was, how a single kiss from him could melt her. It was almost embarrassing how ready she was to accept him in her body, but he kept her in a constant state of readiness. Wet and achy.

  He lifted his head and stared up at her through jet-black lashes. Her stomach clenched and another flood of moisture prepared her. What did he see? What was he looking for? Please don’t stop now.

  “Only if you tell me to,” he murmured, his gaze holding hers tight.

  “Never.”

  She wanted him inside of her more than she wanted her next breath. The flesh between her legs physically ached, needed to feel him, his touch, his lips. She’d never imagined she could be this desperate for sex. It was only sex. Procreation of the species. And none of her orgasms had been that fabulous. But he… he turned up the dial on life.

  Whatever it was he was looking for in her eyes, he must have found it because he gave a slight nod. Then he was pulling off her swimsuit, his lips closing over one nipple and then the other as he worked. It was as if the arrow that had pulled back, drawing the bow tight upon their initial meeting, had been released.

  She lifted her hips to help him and then his hands were on her center, spreading her. Gasping, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as a thick finger slid between her lower lips. So broad. So warm. He rubbed and teased until her hips were moving against his hand in a perfect rhythm. She turned her face into his shoulder to stifle her moan.

  He stopped, and a sound of distress tore from her lips. It had to have come from her because she watched him purse his lips and then duck his head. Oh my… Dieu.

  He chuckled as he pushed her thighs apart. “You are beautiful.”

  When his mouth closed over her clit, the last of her inhibitions melted away. The last of her fears that he’d stop. That this was all a miraculous dream.

  A deliberate flick of his tongue against the divine bundle of nerves shattered all thoughts in her brain. She reached for the bedspread and gripped it tight.

  “Easy, little vamp.” His words blew warm air over her center. He laced his fingers with hers and went back to work with his tongue.

  Oh my…

  She lifted her head to watch him. He stared back, those gorgeous dark eyes holding her hostage as his tongue licked up and down her slit. Probing at first, then teasing. Damn the man; the look in his eyes said he was deliberately holding her on the precipice.

  Fast flickers against her clit made her head fall back as she panted for air. Raw. Delicious. Pleasure built inside of her, slowly at first. Then faster. She tightened her grip on his fingers and looked down at him again. Her entire body trembled with the intensity of her approaching orgasm. The infinitesimal movements compounded her pleasure.

  He stopped, and her body went on alert. Why was he stopping?

  Did he enjoy torturing her?

  “Sorry, gorgeous. I’m saving that orgasm.” He dragged a hand down his face, then moved over her again. His body was gorgeous. Taut. Arms and shoulders coiled with muscles. He had a beautiful jet-black tattoo where his arm and shoulder met. She longed to trail her fingers over it. Investigate him for more. But the scar below his right pec drew her attention. Avery was right. Scars are sexy.

  He smirked, obviously reading her thoughts again. Then he knelt on the bed between her knees and slowly stalked his way up her body like a predator. She felt no fear.

  “Last chance,” he whispered against her lips.

  She put her hands up, palms against his chest, not to fend him off, but so they’d be connected. Closing her eyes, she lifted her head the fraction of an inch, kissing him. It was a slow, straight-on kiss that she hoped would tell him how much his kindness meant to her. How cherished she felt. She doubted most wolves would take the time to seduce her properly. How ready she was to cross the last barrier that separated them.

  “Yes.” She whispered the word and slid her right foot up the back of his leg.

  “Thank the gods,” he muttered and jerked away from her. Her foot fell to the side as he shucked his shorts. Warm light seeped through the curtains, splashing across his chest. She got her first good look at him. All man. Hard, with a smattering of dark hair across his chest and a little trail from his belly button south. The long, proud erection startled her for a moment.

  He kicked the shorts aside and then glanced up at the windows behind her. She tipped her head back, following his movement. It was almost sunrise. For the first time in her life she had lost track of time, forgotten to be vigilant of the enemy. Before the adrenaline could even surge through her system, before she could compute how alarming that was, he was across the room, pressing a button that had blackout shades sliding into place. The room was cast in inky darkness, and it took less than a second for her eyes to adjust. She watched him walk to the dresser and flick on a small lamp. The warm glow was, in a word, romantic.

>   And just like that, the anxiety was gone. Calm and a deep sense of rightness came over her as she shifted atop the mattress so her head was on a pillow.

  He stalked her again. This time he was gloriously naked, a look of concentration on his face. Desire in his eyes and a tiny but potent smile gracing his lips.

  He didn’t stop to ask questions. Merely kissed her. Deeply. His body aligned with hers, big and strong as he reached between her legs and trailed a single finger down her slit. She spread her thighs and clasped his shoulders. The protruding digit eased inside her, stretching her. He fucked her with it. Slowly. Too slowly. She shifted her hips. Not enough.

  “More,” she said against his lips.

  A second finger joined the first and he picked up the pace. She bore down on the fingers as best she could, feeling frantic and alive. On fire for him. How did he -- do that?

  She arched her back, loving the way the coarse hair on his chest tickled her nipples. “Max --” The words died as he nipped her lower lip.

  She was so startled she missed the fact that he withdrew his fingers. But he didn’t leave her empty long. The thick head of his penis nestled against her pussy. His lips swallowed her sigh.

  Slowly, his hips pushed forward, embedding his cock. At the same time his hands caressed her, touching her all over. Fingers tweaked her nipples, making her writhe beneath him. They skimmed her sides, ran the length of her thighs. He kissed her too. Her neck, shoulders, chin. But the whole time, sliding deeper inside of her. Stretching her until at last, he stopped.

  He lifted his head, and she saw the tense look of concentration there. His dark eyes locked on hers and the intimacy kicked up another notch. She smiled, then shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck. The position left her breasts bare against his chest, flush and completely exposed to him. She ran her fingers through his hair, memorizing the feel of him, then tugged him down for a kiss.

  This time she nipped his lower lip and a full body jerk shook him, driving him deeper. She closed her eyes, moaning. That felt so good. So whole. She needed more. Needed for him to move, to take her. Not like a scared little virgin but a woman whose passion equaled his own.

  She started to tell him, but a thought bounced into her head. She’d show him.

  Gathering her strength, she dropped her left foot to the bed and pushed off, rolling them over. When she was on top of him, hair hanging down around them, creating an intimate curtain, his eyebrows were high. She laughed softly.

  “You take too long.” And she’d waited for this even longer.

  A little unsure of herself, she lifted off his cock and slid back down. He threw his head back into the pillow, groaning. His fingers flexed against her thighs, and then he reached between them and rubbed her clit with his thumb. Her inner muscles tightened around him and he groaned again, low and not exactly human.

  Oh she liked that. A lot.

  She squeezed him again.

  The delicious sound rumbled from his chest.

  “Vamp… you’re messing with fire.”

  “Really?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I thought I was messing with the big bad wolf.”

  She leaned forward and placed a kiss in the center of his chest. Feeling braver, she nipped his skin. Then she looked up at him through her lashes.

  He was so handsome with a fine sheen of sweat. Sweat she’d caused, that they’d worked up together. She wanted to make this good for him because she was pretty sure he was off the charts when it came to this sort of thing.

  Straightening, she raked her fingers gently down his chest, stopping to touch his scars. Tease his nipples. Admire his incredible six-pack. She would have to ask him about his workout routine. They could sell it and make millions.

  She squeezed him again and his hands closed over her hips. He uttered something in a language she didn’t understand. But she got the gist just by looking in his eyes. He was losing it. And she was torturing him.

  Quickly, his hands slid upward, cupped her breasts, then settled again on her hips. Somehow, in the course of one night he’d given her the confidence she’d been looking for her whole life. This handsome wolf had the power to slow her wayward thoughts and make her feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet.

  It was time to return the favor.

  Giving him what she hoped was a sexy smile, she placed her hands atop his. “You’d better hold on to me,” she murmured. “I’m indestructible.”

  Then she proceeded to lift and slide down his cock, faster and faster. Her thighs protested the speed. She tightened his grip on his hands, letting his strength hold her. He started growling.

  His gorgeous brown eyes were almost black, locked on her face. She panted from the exertion and felt her climax winding up. Climbing higher around a spiral. Higher and higher. Such sweet, delicious friction. The sexy sound rumbling from his chest, possessive and primitive. His body began to tighten like a snare. Arms, torso, thighs.

  “Now, vamp. Now.”

  His words sent her hurtling over the edge. She let out a little squeal, her head dropping back. Bliss. Pleasure. Heavy… so heavy.

  Beneath her his body tightened further, every muscle and tendon going tight as bone. He growled out his release, his chin jutting toward the ceiling as he crushed her hips between his hands. She took the bruising pressure in stride as she came down from the exquisite high.

  Maxim Ciolek had no right to be that sexy. No right at all. Even in the midst of a most primitive release, he was handsome enough to steal her breath and her heart.

  She smiled down at him, but his eyes were still closed, his chest rising and falling. He really was unlike any man she’d ever known.

  Utterly spent, she collapsed on his chest, falling asleep almost instantly.

  Chapter Seven

  Maxim lounged against the plush headboard, surrounded in the darkness, watching the beautiful vampiress sleep. She was so innocent and small in his bed. Beautiful and pure. Well, he’d taken some of her purity, but she didn’t seem to hold it against him.

  With the shades drawn, the light of day was blocked out, keeping them safely ensconced in a cocoon. He wanted to stay this way. Warm and mellow from lovemaking. The relief from release made him feel light and happier than he’d been in a long time. The look of absolute pleasure on her face as she’d come would be something he’d never forget.

  He had to see it again.

  She nestled closer and tucked a hand beneath her cheek. She’d all but come apart in his arms. And yet, she obviously felt comfortable enough with him to sleep by his side, trusting him to protect her.

  His human side reasoned that she didn’t have much to fear on Mystic Isle. Rules were rules, and here, with Charles Latham on constant watch, the rules were obeyed. No fighting. No weapons.

  But his more primitive side realized how vulnerable a young, beautiful woman was. And she obviously feared demons. Or… she had until he’d stepped in.

  Tipping his head back against the wall, he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe the way she’d taken over. Her strength and stealthy roll to his back had surprised him, but in a good way. With her on top he hadn’t worried about hurting her. Not to mention, he could see more of his favorite parts.

  He liked that she was gaining confidence in herself. Liked that she’d taken her pleasure.

  Again, his wolf demanded.

  Oh, they’d definitely be doing that again. He’d let her rest a little longer, maybe call down for room service. A wolf had to keep his energy up.

  He smiled. Thank goodness she hadn’t changed her mind about him.

  If his brother could see him now… he could just hear Hunter’s voice.

  “Brother, you’re whooped.” Hunter’s German accent had taken on a Russian flare over the years, both of which contradicted his latest foray into American life and verbiage.

  If this was what whooped meant… Maxim grunted. It was true. And he liked it. Sierra was so responsive, so expressive. So unlike any woman h
e’d ever been with. And this list of hers…

  A bucket list. He’d heard of the idea before. Hunter had mentioned a movie by the same name. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was why such a young person would need a list like that. Perhaps she was just organized.

  But then again, he’d been on his own from a young age. Traveling as a necessity. Then he and Danya had struck it rich… He’d found out about Hunter.

  They’d been building a strong, solid pack ever since. Needing that closeness that they’d been denied as children.

  That hadn’t left a lot of time for fun in the last century.

  Perhaps he needed a bucket list of his own. Places and positions he wanted to take the beautiful vamp currently twisted in his bed linen.

  Mmm. Yes. That was a list he could get behind.

  Ceara woke to the sound of a ringing phone. She blinked for a moment, trying to gather her bearings. A smile stretched her lips as she stretched her arms over her head.

  Maxim.

  She turned over and found the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, she quickly surveyed the room.

  “Maxim?”

  No answer.

  The phone rang again.

  Maybe it was him. She answered with a meek, “Hello.”

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  “Maxim --” It was sad how breathless she sounded.

  “Sleep well?”

  “Very.” She couldn’t recall ever sleeping better. It was amazing how calm her mind could be after four orgasms. She blushed.

  He must have known it too because his laugh rumbled through the phone line.

  “Where are you?” she asked. How could she miss a person she’d known for less than a day? Less than a day… Dieu. He was practically a stranger. And she’d had sex with him. Three times!

  “Downstairs. You inspired me.”

  Her mind stopping running away with her long enough to soak in his words. What was he saying? She frowned. “Inspired you?”

  “Your list. I made one of my own. Put on that sexy swimsuit of yours and meet me on the beach.”

  She glanced frantically for a clock. “Is it --”