by Vivian Wood
“Oh, no. Go ahead, be my guest,” Connall said, waving a hand. “I’ll just stare at the bar over there.”
Chris gave him a black look before turning to Emma. He slid out of the booth, extending a hand to her.
“Let’s get out of here. I have a penthouse less than twelve blocks away,” he said, smiling suggestively. Normally, Emma would have been flattered by his offer. Now, though… she knew she wasn’t leaving with anyone but Connall tonight. Her pulse raced just admitting it to herself, but she needed to play it cool to avoid hurting Chris’ feelings. The guy was rad, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I can’t,” Emma said, dropping her gaze to the table. Chris frowned, reaching out to grab her wrist.
“Is something wrong? Two seconds ago you were… you know, interested.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma could see Connall set his drink down and half-rise, ready to pounce on the younger man. She held out a placating hand, focusing on Chris.
“This is the person I was waiting for,” Emma explained calmly. Chris released her wrist immediately, his expression apologetic.
“I had no idea,” he said, his gaze turning to Connall. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes, man. No offense.”
“Get away from my female, and we’ll forget about it,” Connall replied, rising to his full height. Chris took one look at the other man and blanched, backing away.
“So you’re cool, then?” he asked, obviously wanting to scram but not wanting to abandon Emma to Connall. Emma gave him a polite smile.
“I’m cool. See you later,” she said, but he was already practically jogging away from the booth.
“What was that?” Connall asked, his tone furious. Emma scowled at him. They barely knew each other. He had no claim on her whatsoever. Besides, Emma wasn’t even sure he was real. For all she knew, he was a brain-tumor induced fantasy.
“A friend,” she said coolly, taking a sip of her drink. As if she needed more liquor, she thought wryly.
“I leave you alone for less then twelve hours and you’re halfway to hopping into bed with some random human?” Connall growled, pushing his way into the booth beside Emma. She had to choose between scooting over and being in his lap, so she moved.
“You,” she said levelly, “are a random stranger too, if you didn’t realize.”
“Let me make this clear, Emma,” he said, taking her drink from her hand and setting it on the table. He snagged her wrists in his hand, his hazel eyes searching her blue ones. Her breath stuttered to a halt as she gazed up at him, absorbed in his closeness.
“You. Are. Mine,” he purred, watching her intently. Emma swallowed, unsure how to respond to such a demand. “Lie to yourself if you must, but don’t bother denying me anything. I’m planning on marking my territory in the near future anyway.”
Emma’s jaw dropped. He was going to mark her as his own? The possessiveness in his tone should have turned her to ice, but instead she felt a blush spreading across her cheeks.
“You seem very certain,” she said, cocking her head gently. She was fascinated by him, pulled in by his confidant dominance.
“I’m not used to waiting for things, little witch. I know you desire me as much I do you. All that’s standing in the way are a couple of words. Just say it, Emma. ‘I’m yours, Connall.’ It’s that easy.”
Emma didn’t know why, but it was exactly what she needed to hear. She leaned closer, inhaling his spicy cedar scent. Looking up into his eyes, she read the intensity and passion he felt. She knew without a doubt that she would concede without the slightest regret.
“Say it!” Connall ordered, leaning close enough for her to feel his breath against her lips.
“I-I’m yours,” she faltered, licking her lips nervously. The motion caught his attention, and she bit her lip as she squirmed under his gaze. She’d never had anyone’s attention so fully, much less a man like Connall.
He truly was impeccable tonight. He wore tight-fitting black jeans with a black dress shirt and a blood-red tie, his hair looking perfectly tousled. He gaze her a slow smile, making her aware of her own appraisal.
“Good,” he said simply. Letting go of her wrists, he reached out and cupped her jaw just as the other man had been about to do earlier.
“Whatever you want, you come to me. Anything a man can give you, I will give you. I can promise you’ll never go unsatisfied, little witch.”
He said the words in a whisper, and a fission of heat slid down Emma’s spine.
“I didn’t know… I thought I made you up,” Emma confessed, her brain half-mush from the heat in his eyes. Was this really happening?
“Do you normally find roses in your house that you didn’t buy?” he asked, giving her a skeptical look.
“Oh…” she said, the pieces starting to click in her drunk brain.
“Next time I will leave a note. I thought that such a highly personal gift said it all,” he teased, leaning close once again.
Emma tipped up her chin as he pressed his mouth against hers, making her blood race dizzily. His lips were at once strange and comforting, making little snapshots of her dreams fire off in her head. She gasped as he stiffened, pulling away.
“Are you doing that?” he asked, searching her face.
“Doing what?” she asked, biting her lip. Had she done something wrong? Connall leaned in again, replicating the kiss. Again, the images started flashing through her brain. Emma straddling his lap, naked. Connall giving a throaty cry of pleasure as he came, cursing. Emma tasting him intimately, sucking him deep as he gripped her hair.
“That!” he said, giving her a searching look. “The mental images.”
“No,” she said, confused. “How could I be doing anything to you?” Connall’s lips curled, making her cheeks flush with heat.
“You really don’t know what you are, do you?” he asked, suddenly tender.
“I’m not anything,” she said automatically, pulling away.
“Hey,” he said, frowning. “Look at me.” She looked up at him, keeping her expression carefully blank.
“Do you want to see me shift? In person, I mean?” he asked, trying to puzzle her out. Emma opened her mouth and closed it, unsure.
“You mean shift into a wolf, like in the dream?” she asked, her brain making a hundred little leaps of faith.
“Yes. If it will make you feel more comfortable about your abilities, I don’t mind,” he said simply.
“You won’t… you can’t tell anyone,” Emma said, panicked.
“I wouldn’t-” he started, scowling.
“No! Promise me! If anyone knows, they’ll put me in an institution,” she pleaded, wide-eyed.
“I swear to you, Emma. I promise, cross my heart.” He pulled her close again, slipping his arms around her for a tight hug. A little dam inside Emma broke, and she let out a soft sob. He knew better than to ask questions, however.
After a couple of minutes, she pulled back and looked up at him as she wiped her eyes.
“Thank you, Connall,” she said softly, trying to calm herself.
“I like the way you say my name. I’ll have to think of some way to encourage you to do that more,” he teased gently, making Emma blush again.
“You’re terrible,” she said. He grinned and pulled her into his lap, leaning close to smell her hair.
“It’s not my fault that you blush like a virgin every time I say anything dirty,” he quipped. Emma tensed for a second before forcing herself to relax, not wanting to give herself away.
“What?” he said, looking at her again. She flushed even more deeply, ducking her head against his chest.
“Oh, for god’s sake!” he said, his expression close to pain.
“I didn’t say anything,” she said quietly.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked bluntly. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. He’d find out eventually anyway, probably sooner than later.
He cursed, his jaw tensing. He was angry for some reason, b
ut she wasn’t sure why.
“I know, it’s embarrassing,” she said, looking up at him.
“Jesus, no. Don’t explain, it’s not… I’m not angry,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Emma couldn’t help but be a bit amused. Her hulking bad-boy lover, flustered!
“I just don’t know how I’m going to be patient like you deserve,” he said finally, leaning back against the booth. “You’ve got me strung tight, Emma.”
At that she gave him a real smile, leaning forward and brushing a quick kiss against his lips. He responded instantly, deepening the kiss until Emma gave a soft moan. His hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her tightly against the evidence of his arousal.
“Oh!” Emma breathed, biting her lip. Connall slid a hand up her arm to her neck, tilting her head back to give himself better access. Leaving her mouth, he dropped kisses from her earlobe to her shoulder. Emma shuddered hard, and she was rewarded with a hard nip of teeth at her neck. For some reason, the soft bite made her crazy, sending waves of liquid heat down past her stomach to pool in her most intimate places.
Connall gripped her harder, his breathing quickening.
“I can smell your excitement,” he whispered into her ear, spreading goosebumps down her arms. Emma felt him move beneath her, and was shocked to find herself off his lap in an instant, suddenly standing instead.
Connall stood beside her, looking down at her like a starving man.
“Where are you going?” Emma asked, confused.
“We are going somewhere private. Unless you want your first time to be in this booth, giving everyone a free show.” He waved a hand to indicate their surroundings.
Emma thought about it for a second, not sure that she would really mind at this point. Her brain and hormones had left romance far behind, now functioning only on lust and liquor. Connall saw her speculative expression, and growled.
“No,” he reprimanded. He pulled out his wallet and threw a couple of hundreds on the table before wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her out of the club. They went about two blocks before Connall stopped at a beautiful old hotel, fishing in his wallet for his room key.
“You got a room before you came here?” Emma asked, astounded. Putting her hands on her hips, she looked at him accusingly. He gave her a quick grin, not the slightest bit sorry.
“It pays to be prepared. Besides, this place is beautiful. It’s a good place for a special event,” he said sincerely, giving her a meaningful glance.
“Oh,” she said, her resistance instantly melting. He offered her a hand and she took it, following him into the incredible gilt-and-marble covered lobby. She stopped at the grand staircase, looking up with uncertainty. It was a lot of stairs, especially still-tipsy and wearing three inch heels.
She slipped out of her shoes, carrying them as she hurried up the stairs to where Connall waited.
“I would have given you a lift if you’d asked,” he said, amused. Emma just shooed him along, ready to get to the room.
When she walked into the suite, she lost all ability to speak. There were white roses everywhere, buds and petals scattered artfully around the living area. The lights were off, but Emma could tell that this place was incredible in the sunlight.
“What if I hadn’t agreed to come back with you?” she asked, giving him a teasing smile.
“I didn’t even consider that,” he said loftily, making her laugh. Connall let her look around for a moment longer, then impatiently scooped her up.
“Hey!” she squawked as he carried her into a beautiful all-white bedroom and deposited her on the king-sized bed.
“You can admire the furniture later,” he said, kicking off his shoes and approaching the bed. He stopped short of getting on the bed, standing and looking down at Emma. He looked on the brink of mania, running his hands through his hair as his gaze devoured her curves.
“Take your shirt off,” he commanded, his body tense with desire. Hesitantly, Emma pulled her top up over her head and threw it to the side. She was left in a lacy light green bra that pushed her breasts up to their best advantage.
“Now your skirt.”
She shimmied out of the tiny skirt, tossing it aside. She wore a cute pair of boy short-cut panties that matched her bra, because they were equal parts comfortable and sexy.
For several long moments Connall just looked at her, as if memorizing every line in her body. Finally Emma stood on her knees and put her hands against his chest boldly, turning up her face to receive his kiss.
His embrace shouldn’t have taken her by surprise, but it was like touching a hurricane; one second she’d invited his touch, the next she was pinned down to the bed under his heavy body and entirely in his control.
His tongue coaxed her lips to part, dipping inside in measured thrusts. He tasted every bit of her mouth, claiming and branding her as his own. She moaned into his mouth as he ran a hand up and down her ribcage, squeezing gently. She overcame her shock and wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking her fingers into his deep chestnut hair.
When she tugged gently, he rocked his pelvis against her body, encouraging her. His erection pressed hard against her belly and she found it extremely exciting. Somehow she had turned this man with the hot eyes and incredible body inside out, making him respond so keenly to her touch.
Needing more, she began plucking at the buttons on his shirt and tugging on his tie. She made a frustrated sound, pulling back.
“I want this off!” she said ferociously, not bothering to be gentle with his clothes. Connall chuckled and stilled to let her take off his tie. She undid some of the buttons on his shirt before popping the rest open.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” she said as she tugged it out of his jeans.
Connall laughed and shucked his shirt. He unzipped his jeans too but didn’t take them off, perhaps sensing her need to be in control for a few moments. Emma marveled at his chest and abs, just as picture-perfect as her memories. A few snapshots of her dreams shuffled through her mind as she admired him, reaching out and brushing her fingertips against his pecs and down to his toned stomach.
Connall grabbed her hand and pulled her close, threatening.
“You’re going to have to stop with the images or I won’t stay so sweet and patient,” he growled, brushing a hot kiss against her collarbone.
“Can’t help it,” she breathed, catching his mouth and rubbing against him shamelessly. He gave a quiet groan, obviously trying to hold back. Emma decided she didn’t like that one bit. Pushing at his shoulder, she rolled him onto his back and straddled him effortlessly.
His hands found her ribs, her hips, her ass. Emma rocked her hips once to experiment, watching his face. When his eyes nearly rolled up into his head, she grinned. Hopping off him, she began to tug his jeans off. He helped, albeit slowly. She had the sense that he was delaying, trying to keep it together.
A second later she was back on top, pressing her warmth against his cock. Only her thin cotton panties separated them now, barely a barrier at all.
“You’re wet,” he ground out, grabbing her hips once more. She rocked her hips back and forth gently, almost teasing. He groaned aloud, eyes opening to fix her with a black look.
With a mischievous look, she reached down and stroked him a couple of times. Then she pulled her thin panties aside and settled her wetness against his length, giving a couple of soft “oh”s at the warm skin-to-skin contact. Connall thrust, raising her off the bed before relaxing again.
“Enough of this,” he said, reaching up to unhook her bra. When she was bare before him, he gently weighed her breasts in his large palms. When he brushed his fingertips against her hardened nipple, Emma cried out and rocked against him plaintively.
“Fuck, Emma. You are so beautiful,” he growled, flipping her over and running his hands over every inch of her body. He kissed her deeply, effectively stopping her thoughts completely. When he finally pulled away, gasping for breath, she realized he’d removed her panties wi
thout her even noticing.
“I want you in my mouth, like I dreamed,” she whispered in his ear, nibbling his earlobe while she had the chance. His body tensed and he pressed against her urgently, his expression wild.
“Not this time, love. I can’t.. I won’t last in your mouth,” he pleaded, raining kisses and soft bites over her neck and shoulders, down her collarbone to her breasts. Between kisses, he said, “I want to taste you too, so badly. But I don’t think I can wait that long. I’m halfway there as it is, just from this. You’re just so fucking sexy.”
“I’m ready, Connall. I’m so wet,” Emma said, arching against him as he teased and sucked one nipple, then the other.
Connall moved back, grasping his cock and guiding it to her entrance. That simple sensation had Emma desperate for more, clutching his shoulders. When he pressed the head into her she felt her innermost muscles tightening, pleasure and pain waging war.
“Just relax for me, Em,” he soothed, looking anxious.
“I’m fine,” she said, rising up and kissing him deeply. He returned the kiss two fold, pressing himself down and down inside her slickness until he could go no further. Her muscles spasmed painfully several times, but it was over quickly enough. Soon all she could feel was the delicious sensation of stretching to fit his girth and length.
“More!” she gasped, writhing under him. Connall complied, withdrawing and plunging slowly back in several times until she was wild with need.
“More, god damn it!” Emma ordered, and Connall began to thrust in earnest. He kept a perfect rhythm, the pressure and friction of his attentions soon growing unbearable.
“How do I…” Emma gasped, writhing against him savagely. Connall suddenly withdrew, making her frown. Flipping her onto her elbows and knees, he spread her legs and entered her again from behind. She cried out, her sensitive passage gripping him so tightly she thought it must hurt him. If it did, he gave no sign. He pumped into her, the slap of flesh filling the room. Still, she couldn’t figure out how to release her tension and make the torment stop.
“Please, Connall,” she cried out, needing release.