“Liking it isn’t the point. When I think I can get through it without you killing me,” he growled, “then you’ll get a turn.”
She couldn’t believe he’d just said that! “Hey, I’m not that bad at it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he grated, his eyes going heavy and dark. “You could breathe on me and it’d probably stop my heart. And I’d rather not die before getting inside you.”
“Fine. But I’ll get my turn eventually,” she grumbled. “You can’t put it off forever.”
* * *
Hearing the word forever on her lips made him crazed. Made him want to throw back his head and howl.
“Just do what I said and spread your damn legs, Chelsea.” The words were rough with command, satisfaction pooling thickly through his veins when she slowly let her thighs fall open. Yeah, he could have done it for her, but he wanted this. Wanted to know that she was hungry for him. That she needed it as badly as he did.
Crawling onto the bed, Eric braced himself on one arm as he leaned over her lower body and ran two fingers through the pink, glistening folds of her sex. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean, savoring the succulent juice as it sat on his tongue. He might not be able to figure out her scent, but her flavor called to every primitive, possessive instinct he possessed.
“Your taste, Chelse. It’s unreal.”
Lowering his head, he pressed his open mouth to the tender skin just beneath her navel, laving it with his tongue.
“Stop teasing me!” she gasped, trying to pull him up with her hands on his shoulders. “I thought we were finally going to—”
“We will,” he growled, pressing a kiss lower, to the silky curls on her mound. “But I’m still getting you ready. So shut up and let me eat.”
“Eric,” she groaned. “You’re obsessed!”
“You got that right. I can’t get enough of you.”
She gave another soft, breathless gasp. “Are you always like this? Is it a wolf thing?”
He hoped the look on his face made it clear what he thought of her questions, as if she was just another girl he liked to go down on. Yeah, he’d done it to lovers in the past, even enjoyed it. But he’d never needed it. Never ached for it so bad he thought he’d go out of his mind if he didn’t get it.
“No, it’s not a wolf thing,” he told her, his voice raspy and low. “It’s a Chelsea thing.” He lowered his head again, licking the satiny folds, and then pushing inside, letting her feel him licking her from the inside out. Slow, deep. He licked his lips, licked her, trying to get as much of that honeyed sweetness in his mouth as he could. “You taste like you were made for me.”
“Really?” Her back arched, that lush lower lip caught in her white teeth.
His voice rumbled with satisfaction. “Oh, yeah.” He braced himself over her, holding his weight on one hand, while he reached down with the other and pushed two thick fingers back inside her, working them deep. “Feel like it, too.”
“God, Eric, now. Stop torturing me!”
Feeling just as desperate, he quickly grabbed the box of condoms from his bedside drawer, ripped open one of the foil packets and sheathed himself in the thin latex. Then he crawled back over her, caging her beneath him. “I’m not going to stop this time, Chelse. I don’t care if the damn mountain starts crumbling down around us. Flashfloods, earthquakes, hurricanes—they won’t stop me. I’m seeing this through to the end.”
She stared up him, panting and flushed, her blue eyes dark with emotion. “I know. Just don’t...don’t hold my arms down.”
He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but he tensed.
“Please,” she whispered, “don’t be insulted, Eric. I’ve given you more trust than I’ve ever given any other man. I just...I don’t like feeling trapped.”
It was ironic, how they were both so alike in their need for control. But it was all an illusion. He could no more master his fate than she could hold her own with him if he went too far. She wanted her arms free to hold him back if he tried to bite her, but if that were what he wanted, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.
He wanted to tell her that the day would come when she would look up at him and ask for him to hold her down. When she would want to know what it felt like to give every part of herself to him. To know that she could use him as something to break against when she needed an anchor. But he held the words inside, because that day was never going to be theirs.
He didn’t know how long they had together, but he intended to make every damn moment of it count.
Reaching down, Eric positioned himself at her tender entrance, his gaze locked on hers as he held still. Her breath caught, a warm flush of color building beneath her skin, her eyes like a window into the very heart of her soul. He could see her need and desire, her vulnerability, her strength, her courage and her fear. He’d never thought about how significant this moment was with the women he’d known before, how intimate. Never cared, really, which just made him an ass. But then, he knew they’d never cared about him, either.
But Chelsea...God, she was different. Yeah, she drove him crazy with her stubborn pride, but she enthralled him even more. Made him desperate, hungry, needy. Made him ache. Made him want. It was such an easy, simple word that had such huge meaning. Such force.
“Yes or no, Chelse?”
Her whispered yes made his pulse roar, his heart threatening to slam its way out of his chest as he started to push inside. Rocking his hips, he tried to go slow as he worked himself in, but it got away from him and he went too deep, too quickly, and she gasped. “Damn it, I’m sorry,” he growled, somehow finding the strength to hold still, though it just about killed him.
She reached up and touched his face with her fingertips, trailing them over his hot skin, her sky-blue gaze staring deep into his mind...into those dark, dangerous places he didn’t want touching her. He tried to turn his head, but she cupped his cheek, stopping him. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I won’t break, Eric.”
She took a deep breath, and those tight, plush muscles clamping down on him eased a little, letting him sink an inch deeper. He muttered something really dirty under his breath about how good she felt—how slick and tight and hot—and as he worked his hips, she took another inch...and then another. She was taking him, moaning, her storm-dark eyes glazed with passion, and with a deep, grinding thrust, he nearly made it all the way in. Fisting his hands in the bedding, he pulled back his hips and gave her another hard thrust that took him to the root, her throaty cry echoing in his ears as he held there, packed up tight inside her. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head from the feel of her, and he reached down with one hand and grabbed her ass, grinding up tighter against her, until not a fraction of space separated them. Then he waited, his muscles locked, skin misted with sweat, giving her the time she needed to get used to him.
“Eric,” she moaned.
“Yeah?”
Her head went back, neck curved in a beautiful, feminine arch as her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his hips. “Move.”
* * *
“Are you sure?” he asked, making a thick, serrated sound in his throat.
Chelsea was sure he was going to drive her out of her mind. He was buried deep inside her—heavy, hot, thick. She could feel the throbbing pulse of his heartbeat, the sensation the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced. But she needed him to let go. Needed to see that look of strain on his face replaced by one of pleasure.
“Either you start moving, Eric, or you let me be on top.”
His chest shook with a low, deliciously male laugh as he pulled back his hips, and he gave her the most sinful smile she’d ever seen as he suddenly pushed back in with a thick, powerful thrust that pushed the air from her lungs. His eyes went heavy, hers went wide, and he pulled back again, a sexy curse on his
lips as he gave her another one of those heavy lunges, forcing his way inside. The rhythm got faster, his powerful muscles flexing beneath his dark skin, while the primal, provocative scent of hot, wet sex filled the room.
“You like that, Chelse?”
“Love it!” she gasped. “Give me more, Eric. Don’t hold back.”
He took her at her word, riding her with a hard, hammering rhythm that had their bodies going steamy and slick. She was with him all the way, until her third orgasm left her trembling and cracked open, all her defenses crumbling around her. “This isn’t me,” she choked out, her throat tight with emotion. “I’m not like this.”
He lifted his head, his jaw hard, and there was a thin, stunning rim of golden amber burning around the metallic gray of his eyes. “I thought you weren’t afraid of me.”
“I’m not! But that doesn’t mean I have to like losing control. Because I don’t!”
“That’s not true.” The raw, husky timbre of his voice was just another level of heat that glowed inside her, melting her down. “You might not have liked it before—but you like it with me. You told me not to hold back, remember?”
“You just...you have to let me keep my balance.”
He shook his head. “No way. That would bore you to tears. You might not trust me about a lot of things, but you can trust me about this, Chelse. I know how to make you feel good.”
“I don’t doubt your ability to make me orgasm!”
The corner of his mouth curved with an adorable grin. “Hell, I don’t want some run-of-the-mill orgasm. I want to keep making you come so hard you see God.” He touched his mouth to hers, nipping her lower lip, before adding in that dark, devastatingly sexy murmur, “I want you to scream and scratch and shout dirty things at me, demanding I ride you harder. Longer. Deeper.”
“You want too much.”
“I want you. Every damn part of you,” he groaned, the possessive words sending her spiraling into another screaming, bone-melting orgasm, and this time he was right there with her. He came down over her, his hands in her hair, holding her still for the hard, demanding hunger of his kiss as he drove inside her with a strength that didn’t seem human. She could feel the breathtaking, explosive force of his release as it tore through him, a rough growl vibrating deep in his chest, his hips grinding against hers in sharp, urgent pulses, until he finally stilled inside her. But his lips stayed on hers, the kiss gentling into a poignant melding of breaths and sighs, their lips rubbing and sipping, and then they both...smiled.
It was the last thing she would have expected after such incredibly wild, aggressive sex—but knowing that she’d brought a smile to his lips, that she’d made him happy, was the part that meant the most to her. The part she’d always hold close to her heart.
Somehow, they found the strength to pull themselves onto the pillows, facing each other as they lay on their sides. Their hands and lips stroked and explored, learning the other’s body through taste and touch. She traced the swirls of his tattoo with her finger, then moved on to one of the scars on his chest, trailing her fingertips down to another long scar that slashed across his ribs. “Where did you get this one?”
* * *
Eric felt his lips twitch with a smile. “Believe it or not, Eli.”
“Your brother?” she asked, shifting up on an elbow. “How?”
“We were goofing around, playing too rough. We were always like that. Drove my old man crazy. He’d go off the deep end whenever he caught us, but Eli always stepped in and took the brunt of his anger. He protected me, every damn time.” He glanced down at the scar. “The day I got this, I’d been teasing him about his new girlfriend. I was being a shit, egging him on. We started wrestling out behind our barn and I ended up cutting myself open on some metal that was sticking out of the ground. Eli freaked out, carrying me like a damn baby all the way to Jillian’s mom, who was our healer at the time. I kept telling him it was no big deal, but I’d never seen him so upset. He looked worried until she finally got the wound closed.”
“You miss him, don’t you?”
“Every damn day,” he said in a low voice, covering the dip at her lower back with his hand. He spread his fingers, splaying his hand over her skin, loving how soft she was. “I wanted to send for him the moment the League was destroyed, but I can’t do that to him. Bring him back into this mess. If I told him we needed him, he’d come. But he doesn’t deserve to get caught up in this shit.”
“He might feel differently. He might feel that it’s worth it, if it means having his family back.”
“You think so?” he asked.
Caressing the grain of stubble on his jaw with her fingertips, she said, “I think you need to give him the choice.”
He sighed. “We’ll have to find him first.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “You don’t know where he is?”
Pulling in a deep breath of her mouthwatering scent, Eric took a moment to enjoy the way a gleaming lock of hair draped over her feminine shoulder, the ends curling against one of those deliciously small, berry-red nipples. He wanted to take that sweet little nipple into his mouth and suckle until she came again. But he knew she probably needed a little more recovery time, so he forced his attention back to the conversation. “Not exactly,” he murmured, lifting his gaze back to hers as he answered her question. “Eli works with an...interesting group of people. They travel around a lot.”
“What do you mean by interesting?” She looked more than a little curious.
“Think non-human mercenaries,” he offered drily, “and you’d be pretty close.”
“Mercenaries!” She muffled her well-that-certainly-wasn’t-what-I-was-expecting laugh with her hand. “Sorry I asked.”
Eric grinned, loving the lyrical sound of her laughter. “They’re good guys. Just a little rough around the edges.”
“I can imagine.” Her tone was wry.
He stroked her hip, but as his hand started to slip toward her sex, she stiffened, grasping his wrist. “I should, um, go and tidy up.”
“No, don’t. Please,” he begged, quickly cupping her in his palm. After so many orgasms, she was slippery and warm, drenched in her juices.
Her face turned crimson. “But I’m...soaked.”
“I know,” he groaned, loving the way she arched when he found her clit with his thumb. “It’s so perfect, Chelse. You feel so good. No way in hell am I letting you wash this away.”
He hadn’t paid any attention to her beautiful breasts before, but he intended to make up for that now. While his fingers played through her slick, swollen folds, he spent long moments feasting on her nipples, loving the way they felt in his mouth...against his tongue, until his control finally snapped.
“Damn it,” he growled, quickly sheathing himself in another condom and pulling her beneath him. “I know you’re probably too sore, but I can’t wait. I just need...I need to be inside you.”
She gasped as he worked himself in, thrusting his hips against hers until she’d taken every inch of him, the fit tight and perfect and slick.
“Hurt?” he asked, his chest heaving with the ragged force of his breaths.
“A little. But it feels too good to stop.” She reached up, smoothing her fingertip over his brows. “Your eyes are glowing.”
His voice was a whisper. “Are you scared?”
She shook her head. “No. I know you won’t hurt me.”
He closed his eyes and lowered his head, pressing soft kisses along the tender column of her throat.
“Just...don’t bite me.” There was a catch in her voice.
Eric slowly lifted his head, watching her with a hard, penetrating stare, frustration riding his body like a second skin. “You can trust me, Chelse. If I feel myself losing control, I won’t stick around and take the chance of hurting you.” He drew in a s
huddering breath. “Just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
She gazed up at him as she curved her hands over his shoulders, her own stare deep and measuring. Then she drew him down to her until their lips were touching, their breaths soughing together, and whispered, “I’ll...try.”
When it was over, their passion-wrecked bodies collapsed like the victims of a violent storm, bruised and exhausted, but it’d been worth it. He didn’t know how long they lay there, waiting for their breathing to return to normal, but he finally worked up the energy to deal with the condom. Then he came back to the bed, turned off the light, and for the first time in his life, Eric wrapped his arms around a woman and held her close after sex, unwilling to let her go. Clinging to her for all he was worth. “Don’t go.”
Her breath tickled his chest. “You want me to stay?”
He buried his face in the silken mass of her hair, breathing her in, and rasped a husky response against the shell of her ear. “Just try to leave me.”
* * *
Eric opened his eyes to the silvery glow of moonlight playing over the gentle curve of Chelsea’s cheek, her long hair spread out over the pillow. He wanted to press his face into that silken mass and breathe the scent of her into his lungs, keeping it there for as long as he could. Keeping her close, beneath his hands...his body, so that he could be there to see to her safety, sheltering her from the dangers of the world.
Just don’t forget that you’re a threat to her, too.
“Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, no longer willing to listen to that destructive voice. Old fears? His conscience? Whoever it was, they could mind their own damn business. He had no use for them tonight.
He knew she still didn’t trust him. Hell, he still didn’t completely trust himself. But they could work around it for however long this thing between them lasted. The idea of an ending made him want to snarl, so he shoved that irritating thought from his mind, as well, focusing instead on the moment. He’d spent the night in her arms, and he hadn’t lost her. Lost some of his control...yeah. He’d taken her hard and rough and raw, but he hadn’t hurt her. Judging by the number of times she’d come screaming in his arms, the primitive, visceral craving she incited in him worked for her.
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