A Howl for a Highlander

by Terry Spear

Page 31

 

  He didn’t let the rest of his body touch hers, not yet. Every time she touched him, he wanted to thrust between her legs, claim her for his mate, and keep her with him forever. That was another reason why he hadn’t removed her panties despite the temptation to just take her.

  Her hands cupped his face as she kissed him back, her moistened lips teasing and sweeping across his, but it soon turned to something much more passionate and fiery, her tongue exploring his mouth, his penetrating hers. Her hands quickly shifted to his shoulders as she steeled herself, her heartbeat thundering with need as he smelled her pheromones. They instantly kicked up a firestorm in him.

  The way she raised her thigh and rubbed gently against his cock and balls really got his attention. He shifted his mouth from hers to a hot nipple and lathed it with his tongue. He knew without even touching her that she was wet and ready for him. He wanted more. He wanted to hear her beg him to follow through, to force the issue. This time he kneed her legs apart.

  But of all the damn times to get a call, Shelley’s cell phone rang. “Leave it,” she said, as he looked over the mattress to the floor where her cell phone was in her pants pocket.

  “After I turn it off. ” He climbed off the bed, fished the phone out of her pocket—not intending to look at the caller ID but noting it was from an Ethan Campbell—and then shut it off.

  He retrieved his phone and turned it off also, just in case.

  When he returned to bed, he thought she looked as though she half wished he’d tell her who was calling and half wished he’d keep it a secret. Duncan didn’t want her kin getting between them, whoever Ethan might be, so he didn’t say, figuring he’d abide by her wish not to know.

  Her legs were still spread, the patch of curly auburn hair between her thighs taking his attention before he moved in between her legs. He began to stroke her swollen nub with his finger, his tongue licking her navel, his libido cooled somewhat from the phone call.

  She was quickly aroused full tilt again, her fingers sliding through his hair, her body arching beneath his strokes. It wasn’t enough to have her begging for more. He had to possess, to conquer, to give in to her needs as well. His mouth covered hers and his body did the rest—his penis nudging at her entrance, entering, allowing her heated velvet sheath to accommodate him—until he was all the way in. Tight. Hell, she felt as though she was virginal the way she hugged his penis so constrictively, and it felt damned good.

  He thrust deep inside, penetrating her deepest chasm. That connection meant she was his, just as he would always be hers, his mate, forever.

  “Love me,” she whispered, her voice soft, warm, and husky like a breeze on a summer’s night.

  He did, with every ounce that he possessed. He loved her, pumping into her with an enthusiasm he’d never felt before with any woman, creating a union that was not just sex but an unbreakable link between them that would last through the ages.

  “Duncan,” she said, barely able to say his name.

  He sensed she was climbing to the peak, her body feverishly stretching out to reach the climax as he thrust into her deeper, seeking the pleasure that only came from a permanent mating.

  He couldn’t respond, couldn’t say her name, and suspected she didn’t care that he was so wrapped up in the way her muscles clenched around him and her supple body arched against him, gyrating a little as if to allow him deeper access, that the headboard was banging against the wall.

  The moment she cried out in the ecstasy of their union—of their bodies grinding and arching and thrusting as if they were a well-oiled machine, two parts as one—he came, explosively spilling his seed into her womb.

  He at once thought of how he would deal with babies and wolf pups—him, a dark warrior.

  He sank down on top of her for a moment, trying to catch his breath, all the blood having run straight to his groin. For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything but holding her beneath him, just like this.

  He stirred and felt himself hardening again, but he fully intended to get off her, not wanting to crush her with his weight.

  She kept him in place. “Stay,” she said, “just like this, inside me, on top of me, all around me. ”

  Then she went to sleep, and he thought life couldn’t get any better.

  Chapter 13

  Shelley knew this was exactly what she’d always dreamed of when she woke to find Duncan still sleeping soundly, her body now nestled against his. She wondered when he had changed position, enabling her to sleep half on top of him so that he wouldn’t crush her. He didn’t crush her, though, when he was on top of her, instead making her feel protected and loved.

  He was wonderful, a considerate and consummate lover, passionate, yet tender at the same time. She knew beyond a doubt that he loved her.

  She couldn’t help worrying about what her family would say concerning her mating with him without their input. She didn’t need anyone’s approval. But knowing her uncles, she was certain they’d think otherwise. She could imagine them worrying that Duncan had forced her into agreeing to a mating, as alpha as he was, and because he was the kind of man who, when he decided something, went into battle mode to get it. She liked that about him, liked that he cared so much about his family’s financial troubles that he had intended to take on Sal Silverman alone—and anyone else the bastard hired to do his dirty work.

  She was anxious about what would happen with the money Sal had stolen, though. Even more so now, she was determined to help Duncan get it back. Maybe she had a selfish reason for wanting the money returned. She wanted the college to pay for her grant like they’d promised. And she wanted the money returned that the college would have used to pay salaries. What was she to do now, though?

  Maybe if Duncan and his family were wealthy enough, and she was now part of the family, she could visit every palace garden in the world. Maybe she could afford to travel to more exotic places like the Amazon to locate a plant that might help newly turned werewolves to control their shifting.

  She smiled at the thought and ran the tip of her finger over Duncan’s taut pecs. God, he was gorgeous.

  But more than that, he cared about her, even from the moment he’d seen her at the airport and wanted to yank the silver chain around her waist to draw her into his arms. He’d wanted to do so not only for a purely sexual reason, but because he wanted to protect her from anyone who might wish her harm. Sure, from sexual encounters also. She had been a wolf and alone, and she knew that had bothered him from the start.

  She loved the way his dark chest hair rubbed against her sensitive nipples, loved the way his mouth kissed hers, hot and fiery one moment, and brushing tender kisses the next. The way his hands gripped her hips when he was thrusting into her, working her against him in perfect sync. The way his dark brown gaze clouded with lustful intent. Even the way that all she had to do was look at his crotch and his cock would begin to stir.

  She was serious about wanting to play with him as a wolf, just like all wolves did, testing their mettle and finding their position in the pack. She’d never had much of a chance to do that when she was younger. Not with three grouchy uncles who had nipped at her when she was a pup, forcing her to quit biting at their swishing tails or tackling their legs as they stood patiently watching their surroundings, wary of anything that might be a danger to her. Both male and female wolves produced the hormone prolactin, known as the nurturing hormone, which induced them to take care of the pups, to play and feed and teach them. However, her uncles had been more concerned about her welfare.

  She had no interest in frolicking with her uncles now. With Duncan, that was a different story. She knew he could be gentle even if he was afraid he might not be—the big brave Highlander who no doubt always fought to win. She was certain he could tone down his aggression enough to give her a workout without injuring her. If he fought at full strength, or maybe not quite that hard, he’d still give her the
sense that she’d had some chance to best him.

  She wouldn’t mind if she had to resort to tackling him unaware or using strategically placed suitcases to help in her conquest. Part of being a wolf was using cunning to rule the day. She smiled and kissed his nipple, then licked and watched as it tightened.

  He didn’t open his eyes, just growled something low under his breath as his hand clamped over her shoulder. Then he said more audibly, “Does the sleepy little wolf want to play some more?”

  “I should check my missed phone call, and we should take a swim before it gets too late, and…”

  “Too late,” he said, his voice already rough with need, as he rolled her over and spread her legs.

  That was one way to wake the sleeping dragon.

  ***

  After an evening of delight, napping for a while, and a meal of shrimp and scallops and a salad, Shelley finally changed into her bikini. While Duncan was changing into his Speedo, she checked her phone to learn who had called her. She figured it was either that bastard Sal or her girlfriend Wendy. But when she saw it was her Uncle Ethan, she was furious. Not with him but with Duncan. Why hadn’t he told her that her uncle had called?

  Not that she didn’t know the reason. Duncan probably assumed that if he’d told her, she might have had second thoughts about mating him right then and there. She wouldn’t have. Well, maybe she would have. If she’d talked to Uncle Ethan, he would have tried to convince her to wait a while longer. The sizzling, sexy mood between her and Duncan would most likely have fizzled. She sighed.

  Still, he could have told her after they’d made love the second time, damn it. While they’d had dinner. Sometime. Her uncle was not going to go away.

  That made her wonder why Uncle Ethan was calling her. He couldn’t know about Duncan.

  She paced across the living room floor with her turned-off cell phone in hand. She’d only turned it on to see who had called her, then got the shock of a lifetime and hurriedly shut it back off in case her uncle tried to call her again. He wouldn’t have called her unless…

  Wendy, damn it. Wendy had to have told Uncle Ethan that Shelley was rooming with a hunky Highland wolf. She might not have done it on purpose, maybe letting it slip because Uncle Ethan was worried about Shelley being alone on the island.