“Sometimes,” he admitted.
The third button gave way, and the shirt slipped from her shoulder. The fabric caught on her breasts, snug enough to show how tight her nipples were. “Do you like it when a woman does whatever you tell her to?”
He didn’t bother to hide his feral grin as his hand grazed her inner thigh. “Sometimes.”
Joan drew her legs together, trapping his hand, then leaned forward until her lips hovered over his. “That sounds like submission,” she whispered, every word like a teasing kiss. She licked his lower lip and laughed. “I’ve listened to the gossip. I know that giving in to our instincts can make sex more…primal.”
“You want primal?” Her shirt was like paper under his hands, and he tore the fabric free of her body, though he left it wrapped around her arms. “Say the word, sweet Joan.”
She dragged in a breath and leaned into him, pressed her breasts to his chest with a shaky moan. “What word? Primal? Please?”
He chased her back until his body was stretched out over hers. “The word…is yes.”
“Yes.” Her head fell back, and she didn’t struggle, even though she could have easily torn her arms free of the tangle of her shirt. “Yes, yes, yes—”
She wore only plain cotton panties under the voluminous skirt, and Seamus tugged at them. “What other gossip have you heard?”
Wildness filled her eyes as she watched him. “That finding a man with a clever tongue is of paramount importance.”
The cotton slid easily down her legs, and Seamus licked his lips. “You don’t say.”
“Are you going to show me why?”
He wanted to, not only to drive her wild, but to put his mouth to her body and taste her. “Yes.”
She wet her lips, an adorable anticipation lighting up her face. “Right here on the counter?”
“You like the idea?”
“More than I should.”
“Says who?” He teased her by grazing his fingertips over the sensitive flesh at the apex of her thighs as he bent closer. “That society you’re always talking about?”
The sound of her shallow, strained breaths filled the kitchen as her legs inched apart in silent invitation. “I want it more than I thought possible.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” This close, he could feel the heat of her on his tongue before he even touched her. And then he did.
Her breath caught and her knees knocked into his shoulders as she let out a choked noise that mixed pleasure with surprise. She moaned, and fabric ripped a second before her fingers thrust into his hair, the tattered remains of her shirt hanging from one arm. “Seamus.”
To speak, he’d have to raise his head, and he was nowhere near ready to relinquish the warm taste of her. Not yet.
One heel dug into his back as she squirmed, tugging at his hair in time with her short, gasping moans. “This is—this is so good, so wicked.”
He turned his head and bit the inside of her thigh. “Wicked?”
She snarled and tightened her fingers in his hair as power swelled, fierce dominant magic that trembled with her pleasure even as it challenged him.
It was a sweet challenge, and one Seamus couldn’t resist. He eased her off the counter and turned her over it. He dropped a single kiss on the smooth line of her spine and held her hips still. “Say yes.”
Desire cuts both ways…
Night Haven
© 2010 Fiona Jayde
Nothing gives Dina more pleasure than leaving the vampires she hunts to the mercy of the dawn. And yet most humans she is sworn to protect seem all too happy to offer up their necks. She has vowed never to be like those needy creatures yet, three months ago, she allowed a vampire to kiss her. The memory still makes her body burn—and her skin heat with humiliation.
For over twenty empty years, Luke has lived in a world of dead pleasure and burning sunrise, feeding off those who long for immortality and taboo thrills. Only his art makes him feel half-alive. Until one night in a dark, moody nightclub, where a reckless, amber-eyed bloodwolf left behind her clean, sharp scent—and an ache in his blood nothing but another taste can ease.
Finally, with the chance to purge Luke out of her system, Dina moves in for the kill. But she comes to a horrifying realization. She can no longer shift, and the desire to taste him—body, soul and blood—is making her crazy. As an enraged bloodwolf threatens to rip them both apart, she may just be crazy enough to trust Luke with her life.
Warning: Contains interspecies lust between a bloodwolf and a vampire, and desire thick enough to cut with a blade.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Night Haven:
The vampire didn’t move closer, but he didn’t bolt. Keeping her movements casual, Dina closed the distance between them. His gaze locked in with hers, direct and dark and thorough. Tough chin, a slash of lips that looked both sensual and cruel. She wished he had a smear of blood, something to keep her focused on the job instead of remembering his mouth over hers.
“Nice shirt.”
Tonight, she had dressed up her usual black with a long-sleeved T that spelled out “Fuck U” in black glitter. Perfect for work with just a bit of charm.
“Bad night?” Dina sidestepped a swaying couple in matching cowboy boots. “I thought your kind was all blood, all the time.”
He smirked, gave a small upwards jerk of that hero’s chin. She wondered if he saw her heartbeat pulsing somewhere in the hollow of her neck. Get over it.
“And you’re an expert in my kind?” He emphasized the last word slightly in that clipped, low-pitched voice. Enough to make it sound insulting.
“Expert enough to dust you.” She hadn’t witnessed him actually take a bite, but no one had to be the wiser. She could simply dust him now and never see that cruel mocking smile again.
The thought churned her gut.
She faced him with small shivers racing down her back, trying not to remember how his arms felt banded around her, his body hard and hot against her own.
“You want to dance, bloodwolf?”
She couldn’t risk fighting him, not here amidst the crowd. Instead she flashed a smile, short and sweet. “Let’s take it outside.”
“Now that’s an invitation.”
He moved. Before she could react his hands gripped her shoulders, firm yet kind. She had one second to push back, to scream, to growl, to punch him. Instead, Dina just watched his face as he leaned down and put his mouth on hers, hot, hard and nearly brutal.
Her breath shattered with shock as he pulled her against his body, teased out a low moan, biting her lower lip. She fisted her hands in his hair and let herself be taken, ravaged, swaying among the other dancers under the cool and bluesy beat.
Dina didn’t know when his touch became gentle, when his arms eased and merely hugged her close. His lips left her mouth to trail kisses over her jaw, up towards her ears.
“What the hell are you doing?” She pushed away, fighting to keep her heartbeat calm and even. Her mouth tingled but she refused to lift her fingers to her lips. “I should kill you right here.”
“Yeah.” He backed away, his mouth mocking. “Yeah, you should.”
Her heart pounded now—insult and shock pulsing under a slick layer of aroused fear. Once more she had let him put his hands on her. He could have torn open her throat with one smooth move.
“Get out.” The words came out in a low trembling hiss.
“After you.” He raised a brow when she didn’t move. Even if she was an idiot, she wasn’t about to give her back to a damned vamp.
Another sizzling moment and he shrugged as if he didn’t really give a fuck, and walked towards the back entrance. Dina pushed through the crowd after him, forcing herself to breathe, already reaching for the short blade hidden at her lower back.
She’d cut strips off his skin before piercing his heart and leaving him for morning.
As if he read her mind, he smiled darkly when he turned and stepped aside. “Go ahead,” he said again and this
time Dina took the invitation. Better to get out first and secure the scene instead of stepping out blindly.
The alley behind Kennedy’s was dark and crisp with cold November air, the stench of alcohol and trash a foul assault on her nose. His body was a shadow in the dark, silent and still.
She clutched the cold smooth handle of the push blade and swung out, barely missing bone and skin. Another strike, which he evaded just in time for her to ram a fist into his granite jaw.
Pain flashing up her arm, Dina jumped back and crouched, waiting for him to make a move. Willing him to make a move so she could kill him with a clear conscience.
A second passed. Another. He remained still, not lifting a limb to strike her. Instead she felt his gaze burning her skin.
She didn’t like the taste of fear and arousal, arousal she didn’t understand. Trembling, she let the knife drop to the ground, its clatter drowned by the thunder of her pulse.
She wouldn’t back away, she wouldn’t step closer. Trapped by his gaze, Dina damned clothing and caution and dropped her balance to the ground, forcing herself to shift into her other form. Instinct would overpower thought, she wouldn’t feel the tug and pull of lust inside her belly.
His gaze caressed her skin.
She bared her teeth at him, curling her hand into the ground. Another moment and she’d feel the kick and pulse of magic melding her bones into her other shape, forcing her into wolf form. She’d change while he watched, give him a good, long look. Maybe then his gaze would stop tugging at something inside her, maybe then she would tear him apart instead of wanting to jump him and give in to this greed for more.
The cold November breeze teased goose bumps on her skin. Still standing in the shadows, the vampire flicked his wrist to light a cigarette. The short flame lit his face, illuminating harsh lips and cruel watchful eyes.
“You let me know when you’re ready.”
Shock was a chilling coat of sweat. She couldn’t breathe because a fist squeezed at her belly. Her blood ran cold while she gasped for breath. She couldn’t shift, couldn’t feel the magic burning. Shaking, mindless, Dina groped for her knife, waited for him to leap, to grip her throat, to end it.
He took the cigarette out of his mouth, puffed out a ring of smoke. Holding her gaze, he uttered the same words that she had given him earlier.
“Get out.”
With shock clogging her throat, she did.
Score one for the underdog…er…wolf.
Wolf Tracks
© 2010 Vivian Arend
Granite Lake Wolves, Book 4
TJ Lynus is a legend in Granite Lake, both for his easygoing demeanor—and his clumsiness. His carefree acceptance of his lot vanishes, though, when his position as best man brings him face to face with someone he didn’t expect. His mate. His very human mate. Suddenly, one thing is crystal clear: if he intends to claim her, his usual laid-back attitude isn’t going to cut it.
After fulfilling her maid-of-honor duties, Pam Quinn has just enough time for a Yukon wilderness trip before returning south. The instant attraction between her and TJ tempts her to indulge in some Northern Delight, but when he drops the F-bomb—“forever”—she has second thoughts. In her world, true love is a fairytale that seldom, if ever, comes true.
Okay, so maybe staging a kidnapping wasn’t TJ’s best idea, but at least Pam has the good humor to agree to his deal. He’ll give her all the northern exposure she can stand—and she won’t break his kneecaps.
Now to convince her that fairytales can remake her world—and that forever is worth fighting for.
By popular demand: Clumsy sidekick wolf grows up, sarcasm reigns, and the wilderness gets wilder. Includes hot nookie in places you expect—like a remote cabin—and places you don’t.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wolf Tracks:
Someone stepped in behind her, the heat of his solid body hitting her back as he wrapped his hands around her waist and gently nestled them together.
TJ.
Cocky bastard, really. Pam debated slamming a heel on his instep, or flipping him over her shoulder, just to teach him a lesson, but watching Maggie and Erik float around the floor had mellowed her too much.
“You should be careful putting the moves on a girl like that. You might lose something important,” she warned.
He ignored the threat and rested his chin on her shoulder. The heat radiating between them tempted her. “They fit awesome together, don’t they?”
His breath brushed her cheek, warm and sweet smelling. Her mouth watered, but she didn’t want to talk romance with him.
“They look…unbalanced. What was Maggie thinking getting involved with someone so much taller than her?”
He hmmed. “They were probably thinking that when it’s right, there’s no denying you’ve found the one you want.”
Oh lordy, his thumbs stroked her waist, and he nuzzled under her ear. Did she want this? Heat flushed her. She had to decide, and quick. She could lead him out onto the dance floor and enjoy his touch in public, or they could find a dark corner and see what else came up.
So to speak.
He tugged her backward and her body overruled her mind. They slipped into the shadows at the side of the hall, ducking behind a room divider. He pressed her against it, his solid body very, very warm. Her heart rate increased, as did the tingling sensation between her thighs, and she squeezed her legs together to stop the ache.
Man-oh-man, his eyes were so incredible she swore he was using some kind of hypnosis. Turning away was impossible as he stared at her, tracing her hair, her face, one finger outlining her lips before he slowly lowered his head and brought their mouths together.
He brushed his lips over hers like a gentle breeze, his fingers tugging her hair to redirect the angle of her head until their mouths meshed together. Tentative strokes of his tongue brushed fleetingly past her teeth. Teasing, barely giving her a taste of him before he broke away and dropped his forehead against hers.
“Holy shit, you taste good,” he panted. “Incredibly fabulous. I’d never dreamed a woman could taste like you. Or make me feel the way you make me feel.”
Screw the sweet talk. She hadn’t had nearly enough of his kisses. She tried to regain possession of his lips. Arched her back in an attempt to press their bodies together and let her feel his muscles, his desire for her.
He groaned softly. “You’re killing me. We shouldn’t…”
She stepped on either side of his leg and pasted her aching crotch to his thigh. A short gasp escaped her as the impact made her clit throb.
“Fuck it.” TJ grabbed her butt and dragged her hard against him, wrestling control from her as this time he kissed her senseless. Sucked the air from her lungs, twined their tongues together. An almost desperate, mindless, seeking touch. He demanded her response and she gave it eagerly. The pleasure in her sex rose like a rocket blasting into outer space.
His hands were everywhere. Skimming her torso, touching her breasts. Clutching her hips and grinding her hard onto his thigh. Excitement washed over her, the rapid beat of her pulse making her lightheaded, out of breath. He licked a path down her neck, nibbled on her collarbone and something electric shot to her core.
“I want you, Pam,” he growled against her skin. “You’re going to be mine.”
Sheesh, that comment pushed a few wrong buttons, but right here, right now? She wasn’t about to argue with his macho-sexist statement as long as he kept doing what he was doing. Lost beyond all reason, she teetered on the edge of an orgasm and if he stopped she would kill him. Pam clasped his head in her hands and hauled his mouth to hers as she leaned back and tried to find the final touch she needed to go over the edge.
The barrier at her back wobbled for a second, then tilted to the north. All their weight went with the wall as it tipped, crashing to the floor with them on top. She smothered her curses as the flames of desire building between them evaporated into thin air.
TJ’s heavy breathing echoed in her ear
as they unwound tangled limbs. The damn disco lights flickered over them, showcasing their undignified situation. Partygoers congregated to stare with concern and offer helping hands. Pam scrambled to her feet, but all she could think about was the aching need in her core and the sweet taste of him lingering in her mouth.
Undertow
Moira Rogers
Being needed isn’t half as desirable as being wanted.
Building Sanctuary, Book 2
Victor left behind a life of crime to focus on a new vision—helping his alpha build an island sanctuary for werewolves. Harsh experiences prepared him for the hardships involved, except when it comes to dealing with the young female refugees of the brutal Boston pack—especially Simone, who rouses his inner wolf like no other. A woman he must resist, or risk becoming just the latest man to make demands on her.
Born to wealth and privilege, Simone lost everything when she fell for the seductive whispers of the textile heir who turned her. Once adrift, now she is fired by a new sense of purpose—the chance to broker peace between werewolves and European wizards. Yet even as Europe beckons, her instincts—the same ones that led to trouble before—keep drawing her back to Victor.
During a sailing trip to the mainland for supplies, Victor finds it impossible to hold himself aloof from the warm, engaging Simone. And when a winter storm traps them together during a full moon, she breaks through his walls so easily and completely, the question is no longer how he’ll stay away, but how he’ll let her go.
Warning: This novella contains werewolves engaged in such improbable (but legal) activities as lobster fishing and sailing during nor’easters. The breaking and entering and instinct-driven sex on every surface in someone else’s summer cottage is a little more criminal
Undertow: Building Sanctuary, Book Two Page 11