Gina wanted him with every fiber of her body. Emotions and commitment be damned, she was horny and becoming desperate for relief. The tiny, sane part of her that was still uninvolved in her body’s reaction didn’t for a minute believe he wanted anything other than a one-night stand. It would be a first for her, and she didn’t care. If she experienced nothing else in her life, she wanted to be fucked by Nate Moore.
His hands still hadn’t been anywhere near her breasts, yet she could feel her nipples abrading against the soft lace of her bra as they hardened. Her pussy was literally throbbing with her need. She was hot and swollen, and could actually feel all the extra blood that had raced down there, pounding in time with her accelerated pulse. And that had happened even before his hands had started their wicked stroking.
The feelings he was drawing out were at the same time too much and not enough. Totally overwhelmed, her eyes drifted closed. The soft light of the sole table lamp seemed harsh and only added to her discomfort.
Discomfort? Or pleasure? She was so aroused it was hard to tell, but she knew what she wanted and struggled to free her hands, desperate to guide his hands closer to where she wanted to be touched.
Nate chortled in her ear, a deep sound of oh-so-masculine amusement that sent a fresh flurry of shivers coursing through her veins. Obligingly, one hand dipped lower, his fingers stretching to brush over her pussy, which was still covered by her clothes. But her hands remained as securely caught against her sides as before, and she was vaguely aware that he meant her to savor every single nuance. She wouldn’t be allowed to rush him.
The lightest touch of his fingers over her clit and she was shuddering as he teased her with only the possibility of an orgasm—and she was still fully clothed. Ever so slowly, his hand rubbed over her, finally settling with her pussy cupped in his palm. The added heat was almost unbearable. She tried to push herself against him, rubbing herself cat-like into his hand, but he chuckled again and pushed her body tighter into his, refusing her the freedom to pleasure herself with his hand.
“Please…” Gina hardly recognized her own voice, her plea half lost in the moan he wrung from her lips as a single finger slowly rubbed over the entrance to her pussy.
“Please what?” he whispered, his fingers starting to explore a little more thoroughly, apparently oblivious to her squirming.
Gina couldn’t think, couldn’t process a single logical thought. All she knew was that the man behind her seemed intent on giving her the sort of orgasm she’d only dreamed about. Her entire world had been reduced to his hands and what he was doing to her.
She arched against him again, silently begging, so aroused by the sound of her own breathless little whimpers she couldn’t even imagine asking for what she wanted. Surely he knew. He must have known what she wanted—needed—and was purposely holding back. She moaned again, rubbing her ass against his crotch as much as he’d allow, desperate for the orgasm he was keeping just out of her reach.
Finally, one hand moved up over her breasts, the other still firmly locked over her pussy. She flinched as he pinched a nipple, his thumb then running a soothing circle over it until she was again thrusting her breasts towards his hand.
Disappointment rushed through her as his hand kept moving but before she could do more than whimper a protest, she felt his fingers fumbling with the drawstring of her peasant blouse. As soon as he’d loosened it, he drew it over her head, the cooler air instantly pebbling her nipples impossibly harder. It was as if he’d finally run out of patience and, apart from a single fluttering caress, his hand went straight to her neck, pushing her further forward until he could snap the catch on her bra and thread it over her arms.
The same hand went immediately to her skirt, drawing it up over her knees and reaching down to grasp her panties. Within seconds, he’d folded her over his arm, half stood to pull down the skirt and underwear, then rearranged her on the sofa. She was kneeling almost the same way, bent over the arm of the chair with her back to his chest, only this time he nudged her knees further apart, pushing his thigh between them until her legs were spread as far as possible.
Naked in front of him, her breasts and pussy exposed, her arms again trapped by her sides, she was vulnerable—and aroused. Unbelievably aroused. Gina could smell her own juices, could feel them trickling through her curls and running slowly down her thigh.
She looked down at herself, almost dismayed by her wanton behavior, and saw her nipples hard and dark against the creamy white of her skin. His hands were resting on her stomach, bluntly masculine against her feminine softness. As she watched, his thumbs started to move with a slow circling movement that soothed even as it aroused. Without thought, she leant her shoulders back into his chest, watching the way her nipples thrust proudly forward, begging for the attention of his fingers.
As her back brushed against his shirt the buttons dug into her skin and she realized that, although he’d stripped her naked, he was still fully dressed. Her eyes snapped shut, she felt her cheeks flame in embarrassment and his fingers simultaneously moved up to her breasts.
Any thought of modesty went out the window as she preened under his touch, practically purring as he again stroked her into a fever of longing. The more aroused she became, the more erotic she found her nudity. The feelings fed one into the other until she was bucking against him, begging him to make her come.
Nate’s mouth was back at her neck, nibbling and murmuring, his tongue lapping across her pulse, as he alternately twisted and pinched her nipples. The little bursts of pain only added to her pleasure, somehow intensifying everything he did. But still, he wouldn’t let her come.
Then one hand moved down to her pussy, idly stroking her curls while the other pinched one nipple, then the other. Gina wriggled against the restraint of his arms, so desperate to make him touch her that for a moment she’d forgotten just how strong he was.
“I wonder what the little kitten wants?” he mused, his breath tickling her ear. “Does she want to be fucked, perhaps?”
Gina squirmed restlessly, her head tossing. “Yes. Please.” The words were gasped out between moans as his fingers delved briefly into her entrance, careful not to touch her swollen clit.
Nate nipped sharply at her ear, sucking the lobe deep into his mouth and soothing it with his tongue. Her body trembled in response. She shivered as he licked it roughly, then blew a gust of cool air over it.
“Please…” Gina had never begged. Ever. For anything. “Please, fuck me. Please.” The words sounded odd to her ears, but somehow right. She’d do whatever it took to get Nate to end this torture and just get on with it.
There was no warning. One second she’d been squirming against him, begging him to fuck her, the next she was impaled on two long fingers, his other arm was looped around her waist and holding her down. She tried to lift her hips, to push herself up his fingers and drop back down again, but he wouldn’t let her. His thumb was resting on her clit, and his fingers had spread, stretching her and somehow managing to massage her whole pussy at once.
With a sigh, she relaxed against him, forcing her eyes open to look down at his fingers spearing into her cunt. It seemed so intimate, seeing his hand thrust up between her legs, his fingers disappearing deep inside her. That alone sent the first tremors of an orgasm rocketing through her. Of their own accord, her eyes closed. She rocked back gently, reveling in the scrape of his nails against her womb.
His mouth fastened on her shoulder—she could feel where his teeth dug deeply into her flesh—and she tried to jump away, only to find herself held tight. Then he was thrusting his fingers in and out in a ferocious rhythm designed to send her straight over the edge before she could voice a protest—and tumble she did.
Her vision blackened with the intensity of the orgasm, the darkness relieved by bright comets of color that whirled behind her closed eyes. She was surrounded by them, free-falling into space, and sure that if the orgasm didn’t end soon she’d never find her way back to earth. Nate
didn’t let up however, and her mind shattering release didn’t stop him from rubbing gently on her over-sensitized clit.
Somewhere in the distance, Gina heard herself scream as yet another wave overtook her, this one lifting her even higher. She was overwhelmed by sensation as every single cell in her body seemed to swell and burst, sweeping her up in a joyous ride that didn’t slow but kept tossing her ever higher until, finally, she collapsed back into the security of Nate’s arms.
Chapter Six
Nate’s fingers ran repeatedly through Gina’s hair, idly rolling the strands between his forefinger and thumb as he considered what he’d just done. He shuddered. For God’s sake, he’d just bitten a woman. It was one thing to force a female ware into the traditional submissive posture, to hold her down with his teeth, but to see a regular woman in that role? Now, that was a problem.
A smile struggled across his mouth. Of course, it was a bloody good thing the fairy stories about the bite of a werewolf were just that—fairy stories. She wouldn’t be waking up with long teeth and a once-a-month bad hair day, just a slightly sore neck where his teeth had broken the skin.
He leant closer and inhaled deeply, the fresh scent of woman filling his nostrils and his mind. She had her own special smell that went straight to his head. It was something like the earthy smell of a rainforest floor, but somehow sweeter. Rainforests and roses? He shook his head at his own imagination and let his tongue lap slowly over the small puncture marks. One thing werewolves did was heal quickly and, like dogs, they licked their wounds clean.
Gina’s taste was as provocative as her scent, and it took all his self-control to stop his tongue continuing the lazy exploration down her front and between her legs. Surely she’d enjoy waking up in the throes of another orgasm, licked into a frenzy by his tongue? He wanted to taste her pussy, almost as badly as he wanted to claim her with his cock. Heck, he wanted to see her wet with his cum, to watch it dripping back down her legs as he filled her cunt until it overflowed. He shifted uncomfortably—his thoughts definitely weren’t helping his patience.
He’d covered her with a throw he’d snagged off the back of the sofa, but it slipped as he fidgeted. He hurriedly tucked it a little closer around Gina’s waist, trying to hide the temptation, but was unable to resist touching the silky-soft skin on her exposed hip as he did. She’d collapsed on top of him after an amazing orgasm, one that just went on and on, and had fallen into a deep sleep. Hell, he’d fucked her senseless and he hadn’t even got his cock inside her yet!
His cock was still rock hard, uncomfortably squashed under the dead weight of her sleeping body, but he couldn’t begrudge her the rest. He’d obviously pushed her a lot harder than anyone else had ever done, and he’d hardly even started. She needed a little time to catch up before he introduced her to what sex with a Moore was really like.
In his mind he could see her going wild underneath him as he took her in every conceivable position. Rough and dirty, that was what he wanted. But was she up to it? He doubted it. But then again… It was hard to tell. Not in his wildest dreams had he imagined Ms. Conservative Longmire turning into such an utterly abandoned—and wholly sensual—creature. She was seriously hot, and it wasn’t at all what he’d expected.
Nate grinned at the thought. He’d been hoping for a bit of fairly ordinary vanilla sex, just enough to take the edge off his hunger and get her out of his head, and look at him now—lusting after her and totally impatient for her to wake up so he could get back to fucking her properly.
And fuck her, he would. It was his turn next.
* * * *
Gina awoke as cold cotton sheets scraped across her naked ass. She grumbled and shifted, her hand flailing as she reached blindly for the covers that were annoyingly out of reach.
“Uh-uh.” The words positively dripped with masculine amusement.
Her eyes flew open as the memory of Nate’s hands stroking her intruded on her dreams. He was sitting on the end of the bed, not even touching her, but heat flared under her skin as his eyes traced indolently over her naked body.
Her very wantonly sprawled, naked body.
Sure her blush spread all the way from her toes upward, she started to draw her legs together, her arms shifting to cover her breasts. Nate’s grin grew, and he grasped one ankle, halting its progress across the sheets, again forcing her legs apart.
“You don’t think I went to all the trouble of carrying you up here and arranging you so prettily, just to have you come over all modest on me, do you?”
Arranging her? Surely he couldn’t mean he’d purposely…?
For an instant, his teeth gleamed. “You weren’t particularly shy when I had my hand buried between your legs and finger-fucked you until you screamed.”
Her blush deepened as his words brought back visions of her begging him to let her come.
“Put your arms back above your head,” he urged, his face approving as she automatically obeyed his demand. “Beautiful.” The single word was hoarse, his desire clear. “Now let me look at you.”
Gina felt a tug on her ankle. The hand that had manacled it hadn’t loosened, but the possessive grip felt somehow right. Not threatening at all. With a tiny sigh of acquiescence, she unlocked her muscles, allowing him to draw her legs further apart until she was again spread across the bed. Her covers, she saw, were in a heap on the floor. There was nothing to interrupt his view of her naked body.
“I…” She hesitated. Exactly what did she want? She’d certainly never had a man look at her with the same heat, the same lust as Nate Moore was looking at her right now.
He moved and her eyes were drawn downwards towards his bulging erection still hidden under his jeans. Instinctively, her fingers flexed.
There was no question but that he wanted her. And lying here under his heated gaze, she wanted him. Every touch of his fingers, every stroke of his tongue against her skin was firmly imprinted in her mind, and her body was urging her to take everything that predatory gaze was offering.
Gina lifted her hands slightly, unconsciously beckoning, and moved restlessly against the sheets. She’d come for him—more gloriously than she’d ever imagined possible—but it wasn’t enough. She wanted even more.
Slowly, mildly enquiring, he raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Dammit! Why wasn’t he as desperate as she was? She wanted him over her, under her, in her. And she wanted to see him wracked by the same passion that was even now clouding her vision as she watched him closing in on her.
On his hands and knees he crawled up the bed towards her, stalking her. Yet there was something else hiding behind that lazy prowl. It was in his eyes, in the way they glittered as he stared down on her.
Thoroughly trapped now, his arms and legs spread to either side of her, pinning her in place, she smiled up a sultry invitation older than time itself. Slowly, she drew her hands down from above her head, equally slowly reaching up to undo the buttons on his shirt. He didn’t flinch as she opened the halves wide, exposing his chest to her view for the very first time. A single finger brushed through the swirls of crinkly hair, tracing the solid outline of each taut muscle, then rested lightly on his flat nipple.
Slowly, wickedly, she placed the same finger in her mouth, enjoying the way his eyes darkened as they followed the movement of her lips as she sucked her finger deep. Her tongue swirled out. His eyes glowed. Then, deliberately, she placed the damp finger back on his nipple, circling it until she felt him heave in a single deep breath. His eyes had never left her lips.
Amazed by her own daring, she returned the finger to her mouth, sucking avidly, fascinated by the sudden hitch in his breathing. It was something so little, yet she could affect him so easily. Confidence growing, her other hand dipped to his jeans, struggling one-handed with the button fly. She watched his face harden, then gasped as he lowered his weight carefully on top of her, instantly stopping her movement.
A tentative wriggle confirmed her status—trapped.
Again.
But what a prison…
The gleam in his eyes was back, the darkness lightening, as he rubbed his groin lightly over her pussy. Even through the thick denim she could feel his cock, rock hard and throbbing. She wanted it closer, skin on skin, but with her hands caught between them and his hips holding her thighs spread wide, she was helpless to speed up his deliberate progress.
He was back in control, enflaming her. So much for her attempt at seduction—she’d hardly even managed to get any of his clothes off before succumbing to him.
Again.
She could feel the heat spreading through her. The subtle rasp of his bare chest against her nipples, the firmer pressure as he purposely rubbed the hard denim over her already sensitive clit, and she knew she’d soon spiral out of control.
Gina struggled to hold her eyes open, to look up at him, only to close them quickly when she saw the heavy satisfaction etched in his features. She was his, and he knew it.
And so did she.
It may not have sat particularly well with her recently acquired in-charge-of-my-own-life personality, but how could she fight the kind of pleasure he was so capable of giving her? And so easily, too.
With a contented sigh, she settled back to take whatever he offered. It was unlikely to last for more than a night but—for now—she’d settle for whatever she could get.
* * * *
Those hesitant little butterfly touches had been enough to send his already brittle self-control flying. She had no idea of just how much power she wielded, yet she was the first female—ware or human—who’d truly got under his skin. He’d have to think about that. But not now. Later, when his cock wasn’t being quite so insistent about exactly where it wanted to be—buried to the balls in the welcoming heat of her cunt.
For a moment he considered using compulsion to hold her in thrall while he regained his composure but as quickly dismissed the idea. His brother would flay him alive if he ever found out, even if Nate had been doing it for her own good. He didn’t relish the idea of a serious run-in with Sebastian. The chances were good that he—Nate—would end up as a rather handsome fur rug on someone’s living room floor.
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