by Reina Torres
“Feminine arts? What exactly fits under that category? Needlepoint? Hand sewing? I’ve always wanted hand-knitted socks!”
“I’ll gut you with my claws and then you won’t need socks.”
He heard the grumbling under her breath, but at least she didn’t try to maim him.
Yet.
“So that’s what your father told you I wanted?”
“And what you needed. I’m too opinionated. Too masculine for a mate like you. You need-”
He silenced her with a kiss. Slanting his lips over hers, swallowing her complaint.
A moment later when he felt her shoulders loosen, he stepped back. “Besides knowing her name, what do you know of Salvatore’s mate?”
“My father said she was the perfect mate for him.”
He nodded. “I would say so,” he began and hurried to continue to avoid the argument he knew was brewing, “but she is also the head of Durante Fashion. She’s a designer,” he said the words with pride and meant them, “and yes, she can cook a dinner, but that’s not why she’s perfect for him.”
He watched her tension slowly bleed from her body, before she seized on her next question. “And Allegra?”
He could almost hear hope in her voice. Almost.
“Allegra, well she might qualify for hero status. Blinded by an old boyfriend,” he shook his head, “she not only learned to read and navigate New York city sidewalks, she’s performing with a local Chamber Orchestra and coordinating a program to bring musicians and artists to underprivileged schools in the city.”
He felt Ana’s hand on his arm and he savored the subtle dance of her fingers through the fabric of his shirt.
“You like her.” Uberto heard the longing in her tone.
“I love her, and Natale as sisters and my friends, but you’re my mate, Ana. You are the woman I crave beside me. The one I want to lose myself inside. And if you wanted cubs, I would give you anything you wanted.” He leaned closer and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “And I may surprise you with a meal or two that I not only enjoy making, but that I’m told people don’t die from eating.”
She gave him a questioning look. “I never know when you’re telling the truth and when you’re making fun of me.”
Uberto shook his head and gave her a lopsided grin. “You must be confused if you don’t know that I’m making fun of me, Ana.”
He took a step back to put some distance between them, not because of her, but because of him. Being so close to her may not be just clouding his own thoughts but hers as well. If her bear was riding her as hard as his was riding him, she needed the space to think, too.
“I’m not expecting you to fall into my arms… or my bed, Ana. I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head and one arm crossed over her chest like a shield as she grabbed on to her opposite shoulder, “if I can ever give you what you want from me.”
“I hate to contradict your father, mia anima, but I think it needs to be said that I don’t have a check list, nor do I have a list of requirements for you to meet.” His smile was barely a soft curl at one side of his mouth. “All I want to do is try,” he told her. “Try to be with each other. Try to enjoy what we can have between us. I’d like to deepen our bond, not drive a wedge between us.”
She was silent before him, but thoughtful.
“I’m going to my room, Ana.” He let his eyes drink her in and felt his bear call to hers. “If you want me, for any reason, come and find me.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
#
Watching him walk away twisted her up inside. It was exactly what she’d wanted him to do. From the moment she knew he was back in Santa Biago she’d wanted him to leave. Leave and go back to New York City.
Well, he said he wasn’t going to leave Italy. He wasn’t going to leave the town. He wasn’t even going to leave the house, but maybe… just maybe she was a little bit happy that he was staying.
That he wanted her to come to him.
Her bear was busy sunning herself in the heat of Uberto’s touch.
Traitor. She tried to scold her bear, but the furry turncoat wiggled her back in the grass and let her tongue loll from her mouth.
And that’s what galled Emiliana. It was so simple for her bear. The bear wanted his bear. It didn’t matter that his bear had been a chauvinistic jerk when they were younger, that he could still be a chauvinistic jerk now… just with a better cover. The bear wanted what the bear wanted.
All Emiliana wanted was someone who could understand what it was like for her.
The only female shifter in Santa Biago for generations made for a lonely and curious lifestyle. Everyone being curious about her.
So, what did she get out of it?
A side of her nature that was nature, one that wanted Uberto in all the ways that a woman could want their lover… their mate.
Was it so bad that she wanted him too?
Was she any less of the woman she wants to be, just because she wanted his kisses like her next breath?
And why was she wasting all of this time running over the same arguments over and over and made a decision that she knew would shock him.
If she wanted to change her mind, this was the time to make the decision. Did she want to continue on with things the way that had been for the last ten years?
No.
But was she ready to make a decision for the rest of her life?
Not at all.
But waiting, wasn’t going to get her anywhere other than the same place she’d been for years, treading water.
Chapter Seven
To hell with it.
She could have found her way to his room in the dark, with her eyes closed. It had been her room before he’d returned.
When she reached for the door she didn’t hesitate to take it in her hand and turn. It swung open with an easy rush of silence and then she was there.
Inside his room.
Looking at him in the bed. Under her covers.
She reached up and tugged at the thin strap of her nightie, pulling it off her shoulder and letting it drop on its own, the fabric caught on her breast, adding just the hint of weight on her skin. It made her breath quicken. Made her pulse flare.
There was a hush of sound from the bed and she looked.
Uberto was sitting up, his legs hanging over the edge, feet firmly on the hardwood floor, the blankets haphazardly draped over his lap.
She had his attention, and the hard length of his erection tenting the blanket had hers.
Reaching up, she pulled the other strap off her shoulder and the soft tug of fabric over her breast pulled a gasp from her lips. Or maybe it was the way her nipples pebbled under the silk.
Or maybe, if she was going to be a little more honest with herself, it was the look in his eyes as he watched the silk strap fall. The look that said he was barely holding himself back.
Keeping Uberto Orsino on a leash was a heady feeling. She’d seen him rip through a tree trunk with his bare hands when they were barely teenagers, knowing he was holding all of that at bay for her? She was nearly drunk with power.
“What if,” she began to speak, taking a little step closer, feeling the wet heat of her arousal between her thighs, “I didn’t want to go back to the other room tonight, ‘Berto?” She felt his name roll over her tongue and the vibrations continued lower in her body as well. “What if I wanted to stay here?”
She watched him take in one breath and then another, his fingers digging into the bed at his sides.
“Do you want me to leave?” She heard the willingness in his voice, but saw the ache in his eyes. She had him on a string.
She shrugged, and the silk nightie slid lower on her breasts, barely holding on at the tight points of her nipples. The straps were roped around her elbows, holding her arms against her sides. One breath, one shimmy, and the silk would fall to her hips.
“Maybe I want you to stay.”
He was silent and barely breathing, holding so still he looked like he’d been carved out of living marble. The only movement she could see was the twitch of his cock under the blanket.
“Maybe I want to touch you tonight, Uberto. Maybe I want to see if we’re still a perfect fit.”
There was a thickness to the air around them, as if they were thirty-thousand feet up in their air on a plane, and her ears were ready to pop. But then she realized that the tension in her ears was his voice, the soft rolling growl that seemed to roll off of his skin instead of from his throat.
And then she knew. He wouldn’t move until she told him. He wouldn’t move until she allowed him to.
Her bear sat in the darkness, waiting for her to decide, silent and nearly patient.
“Lie down,” she told him, and watched him obey without a moment’s hesitation. When he reached for the blanket still draped over his middle she stopped him with a command. “Leave it.”
She walked the last few steps toward the bed and saw his eyes fixed on her, saw the way they went impossibly dark as the silk slipped free of her nipples and pooled at her hips. She knew he wanted her, but it wasn’t until she heard the soft tear of cotton as his fingers dug through the sheets at his sides that she knew how far she’d pushed him.
It was a sin for her to feel such pride in his desire, but she would do her penance later. Right at that moment, she wanted her reward.
Lifting one hand after another, she released her arms from the silk bonds of the slim shoulder straps and made her way to the foot of the bed.
He watched her, his eyes shifting from the hungry look of a predator, to the watchful look of prey back and forth.
Crawling up onto the bed, she felt her knee catch in the hem of her nightie and sat up long enough to push the garment off of her hips and down to her knees. When she leaned forward and braced her hands on the bed, she shook the nightie down past her knees and moved closer to him, leaving the silk behind.
A quick nudge with her hand had him spreading his legs apart, giving her room to crawl up between them.
She fixed her eyes on the thickness of his erection beneath the soft cotton blanket and watched as it seemed to twitch with each deep-indrawn breath.
“What if,” she dragged her gaze from his hips toward his eyes, her teeth making a white line in her pink lips as she bit down hard, “I wanted to swallow you whole. Would you let me take you inside me like that, Uberto?”
He seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble taking in enough oxygen to speak, but somehow, she heard his words torn from him as if it came from deeper inside him than his throat. “Yes. Please, yes.”
And how could she deny him after that?
She reached out and grabbed the blanket in her hand and tugged. It pulled free of the only real obstacle it had, and left him bare before her, the heavy length of his erection bobbing from the sudden yank of the fine cotton blanket.
His expression was heated, but there was something else in his eyes. Instead of bleeding completely black with his bear, he was staring at her with a wary look in his human eyes. She didn’t blame him for feeling that way. She’d pushed him away too many times for him not to be at least curious.
Well, she was a big girl now. A full-fledged woman who was ready to go after what she wanted.
And she wanted him.
She still wasn’t sure she could trust him not to break her heart and sadly, her soul, as well, but she needed to touch him.
And find out if the reality was anywhere near her imagination.
Settling on her knees between his legs, she reached out her hand and wrapped it around the base of his cock. The heat of him against her palm was scorching hot. It was like grabbing hold of a frying pan handle without any buffer.
Instead of burning her up, it set her aflame.
As she flexed her hold on him, she felt his hips lift ever so slightly, brushing the outside of her hand against the crisp hairs at the base of his length.
“Hold still,” she admonished him, “my turn.”
She waited, immobile until he lowered his hips back down to the bed. He growled at her, the look in his eyes full of dark promises. “Just you wait, Ana. When it’s my turn, you just might regret waving red in front of me.”
She laughed and drew her hand up the length of his cock in a slow deliberate slide. “You’re not a bull, ‘Berto. But you don’t have to worry about warning me. I’m a big girl now,” she lifted her thumb and swept if over the wide tip of his cock, smearing the bead of pre-cum over its head, “I know what I’m doing.”
A low, rumbling growl filled the room and she saw his eyes flicker dark like distant lightning. “You have no idea, mia bella. No, idea.”
She leaned over him and heard his sudden, deep, indrawn breath. Emiliana felt her lips curve into a wicked little smile and felt more than a rush of pride as his erection twitched in her grasp. “Well, why don’t we wait until I’m done to judge, hmm?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, nor did she really expect one.
A moment after she felt the hum in her words ease off her lips, she opened them and used her tongue to lick the slick heat from his skin.
Something burst from his lips. And even though she couldn’t make out any distinct words, she didn’t bother to stop and ask what it was. No, she repeated the stroke of her tongue and then before he could relax the strain in his muscles, she dipped the tip of her tongue under the head and stroked along the edge.
Goodness, he was sensitive.
For a moment she felt him hesitate and she pulled slightly away. She didn’t have to look through her hair to see him, she’d left her hair up in her customary victory rolls, curled and pinned up away from her face. She had a clear view of him, and his eyes were focused on her. Another swipe of her tongue and his lip curled back high enough for her to see the points of his fangs pale white against the dark interior of his mouth.
She felt an ache in her shoulder, an echo of his mark, and that’s when the flood broke loose.
Leaning forward she took him into her mouth, swirling her flattened tongue around the tip.
A rough breath escaped his lips on an oath and she smiled, squeezing him slightly between her tongue and the top of her mouth.
She felt the bedding pull under her knees and she saw from the corner of her eyes, his hand fisting in the sheets beneath them.
Unwilling to give him a break, Emiliana released the light pressure and took another inch into her mouth.
The sound that filled her ears was a panting sigh, rough with need.
And she rewarded him with another inch and then another.
Her tongue worshiped his thickness as her hand stroked him at the base. When his head touched the back of her palate she gave his cock a little squeeze. Uberto drew his knees up and one leg brushed the side of her breast. She moaned against his erection and lifted herself fully onto her knees as he slipped into her throat.
“Ana!” Her name was ripped from his throat as her free hand slid down to cradle his balls in her cupped palm. “Yes, yes,” his groan shuddered through them both, “just like that.”
He barely moved as she drew back, sucking at his cock until he was almost on her lips, before she plunged back down to take him all the way into her throat again. And again.
And he lost the ability to speak in his adopted tongue. A litany of Italian poured from his lips like honeyed wine and she let him arch into her throat.
She felt every stroke for the rush it was. Power. She held this power over him. His breathless words, his hands fisting in the sheets, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breathe, were all because of her.
She swore she could feel his heartbeat, take air from his lungs, hear the thoughts inside of his head.
When he sat up, a roar tearing from his throat, his eyes sizzling with dark heat, she knew what he wanted.
Knew what he needed. She lifted her head, let his cock pull free of her lips, watched the long si
lken thread that connected them. Wiping it from her lip, she used her thumb to paint the head of his erection and wrapped her hand around its base.
Before he could manage a word, she crawled up straddled his hips. Emiliana swept the tip of him through her slick heat and lowered herself in one languid stretch as he filled her.
When she finally felt his hips press up against her she sighed, tipping her head back, she felt her hair tickle the base of her spine.
“It’s been so long,” she swiveled her hips and felt him shift beneath her. When she turned her head to the side, she saw Uberto’s hand on her thigh. His fingers were splayed open, anchoring her in place. She felt an answering bite on her other thigh and sat up enough to look down into his eyes. “You feel so good inside me.”
“I’ve dreamed of you,” his voice was a low growl of sound. “Over me, under me, how didn’t matter. What mattered was the way I fit inside of you, squeezing me tight.”
She answered him by doing just that, squeezing her body around his thickness.
He sat up even more and she felt the tight pull of his abdominal muscles under her.
Her voice rose half an octave, sighing from her throat. “So tight.”
His hands slid up her thighs to grab hold of her hips. He curled his muscles, lifting into her with a quick thrust and she felt her breath rush out of her lungs.
Uberto repeated the curl and thrust, and she felt her breasts bounce with the force of his movement.
The look in his eyes was predatory and she didn’t mind being his prey, not with him seated deep inside of her body.
He met her hungry gaze and his tight smile gave her just a little peek at his fangs.
“Tell me, Ana,” she felt his voice buzzing through her body, “do you want to ride me?” Another quick thrust pulled a breath into her lungs, easing the light-headed feeling that had her reeling. “Or do you want me on top of you?”
She was half-dazed with desire, her mind roiling with images of both options. The problem was she wanted it all. She wanted it all at the same moment, and she knew it wasn’t possible, but it didn’t stop her from wanting it. Wanting him.
She just wasn’t ready to give over the control just yet. “I want to give as good as I take, ‘Berto. Not just the giver or the receiver.”