“Because.” She really couldn’t think of a better explanation. She was too busy trying not to come with him barely touching her. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?
He slipped his hand over her bare thigh, shoving the hem of the shirt out of his way. His fingers touched the edge of the silk boxers and he smiled. “You like it.” He dipped beneath the hem and touched her sex. She was wet and hot. “You really like it.” Male satisfaction was evident in his voice.
“That’s beside the point. You kidnapped me for crying out loud, and I don’t sleep with strangers, especially kidnapping strangers.” She was grasping at straws and knew it. Her body was on fire for him, wanted him with a fierce yearning, driving out all other sane thoughts.
“Ah, chère.” Jacque removed his hand and she swallowed her disappointment, gasping when he placed it over her breast. The fabric of the shirt was between her skin and his hand, but his touch scorched her nonetheless. “We’re not strangers. You’re my mate, chosen by the fates or whatever gods exist. You were meant for me. Now and forever.”
Chapter Seven
Jacque sensed Gwen’s uncertainty, but he could also smell her growing arousal. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but he had to go slow or she’d run scared. Not that he could blame her. She was human and more fragile than women of his kind. He wanted to cherish her, not hurt her. His control was teetering on the edge, but for her he would restrain his wolf and his baser instincts. He wanted to bring her pleasure this first time. To show her how it could be between them.
Her breast was firm beneath his hand, the taut nipple pressing against his palm. He bent his head and inhaled, drawing her scent into his lungs, into his very cells. His wolf howled within him. The beast knew what the man did—she belonged to them.
“Jacque.” Her voice was shaky. He could hear the uncertainty and he quickly moved to quell it.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. He shifted his position on the bed so that Gwen was lying flat on her back and he was next to her, his head propped up on his hand. He roamed his free hand over her torso, slipping over the silky fabric of his shirt. There was something about a woman in a man’s shirt that was incredibly sexy, and the fact that it was his shirt shot his arousal level through the roof.
His cock throbbed nonstop, a testament to how much he wanted Gwen. He’d thought he was far beyond being ruled by his hormones, but Gwen made a mockery of his control, overriding it without even trying. He knew their relationship was going to cause trouble, but he didn’t care. He wanted her enough to fight whatever objections arose and whoever tried to keep them apart.
“You are so incredibly lovely.” He slid the top button of his shirt from its hole, exposing a swatch of creamy, pale flesh. He licked his lips in anticipation.
“This isn’t a good idea.” She arched her back, pushing her chest toward him even as she objected.
He smiled and slipped another button free. “It’s a very good idea.” He loosened another button and then another until he was able to push aside the fabric and expose her lush breasts. Mottled bruises marred her torso in places, a vivid reminder of her accident. “Chère,” he crooned as he leaned down to kiss and lick at each abrasion, hoping to give her some ease.
She gasped and then moaned as his tongue soothed her flesh. “What are you doing?”
“Making you feel better.” All werewolves had a healing agent in their saliva. He had no idea if it would work on a human, but he hoped it would help ease the pain of her bruises and accelerate her healing.
He stroked her stomach, feeling the ripple of the muscles beneath her skin as he moved upward. Goose bumps dotted her skin and he longed to lick each and every one. Her lungs expanded and she released a huge breath when he finally took one of her bare breasts in his hand. The pretty pink nipple stood at attention, straining for his touch. He brushed his thumb over it.
Gwen gasped and shook at the contact. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth slightly parted. He couldn’t resist tasting her again and swooped down to kiss her. There was no hesitation this time, no resistance at all as he swept inside. Her tongue met his, tangling and rubbing. Her legs shifted restlessly against the cool sheets.
A fine sheen of sweat coated his body as the heat within him threatened to explode. He kissed her again and again, eating at her lips, feasting on her mouth, stealing the very breath from her body and returning it with his own.
He reared back and tore off his shirt, needing the contact of skin against skin. He lowered himself over her until his chest was touching hers. Her pebbled nipples pressed into him, her full breasts flattening under the pressure of his body. She slid her hands up his arms, stopping at his shoulders, and dug her fingernails into his skin.
He growled and moved his upper torso in a circle, letting the crisp hair on his pectorals stimulate her nipples. She moaned, her breath releasing in puffy gasps of pleasure.
He kissed her neck, nibbling lightly on the tender flesh, drawing a gasp from Gwen. He moved and licked the delicate line of her collarbone before shifting lower to lap and suck on her tasty breasts. He plumped one of them in his hand and tongued the puckered nub. She gripped his hair, digging her nails into his scalp.
He savored her obvious enjoyment, but it wasn’t enough. He knew he couldn’t take her. Not yet. She was still recovering from her accident and he didn’t want to do anything that might hurt her. Plus, he didn’t want her simply because she was overwhelmed by the passion flaring between them. He wanted her to truly want him, even knowing what he was. So he ignored his tight, aching balls and his hard-as-nails dick and set to work pleasuring Gwen.
He wanted to hear her scream his name with pleasure and he usually got what he wanted. He smiled at the low grumble of protest she made when he released her nipple and blew on it. The cold air contrasted with the warmth from his mouth, making her shiver.
He sat up and hooked his fingers into the waistband of the silk boxers she wore. The dark blue material contrasted with her pale skin. He wanted to eat her up. His mouth watered, anticipating her sweet and spicy flavor.
“Gwen?”
She was lost in a sea of sensuality. Her body had never responded to any man the way it did to Jacque. And she was beyond worrying about it. When reality reared its ugly head again, she knew she’d question her choices. But for now she’d had more than enough to deal with. She could have died tonight. She wanted to taste life.
His voice was a low growl. Sexy. Enticing. He’d kissed her breathless, kissed her until she’d forgotten her own name, until nothing existed but his lips touching hers, his tongue twining with hers. His hand on her breast, his mouth on her nipple sent heat spiraling and swirling throughout her entire body.
“Yes,” she breathed in answer to his question. The fact that he would ask her even now when it was obvious she was beyond objection made her want to give him anything and everything.
Her skin felt as though it was stretched too thinly over her frame. Every cell was alive and tingly with anticipation. His fingers teased her flesh where they were hooked inside the waistband of the boxers she wore. He pulled and the material slid downward.
“Lift up your butt,” he commanded, and she did as he asked. The material slipped down her legs, a caress in their own right. The silky fabric teased the inside of her thighs and her calves. Jacque brought the material to his nose and sniffed.
Gwen felt her cheeks heating. The man did know how to embarrass her. He noticed her stillness and her expression and he smiled.
“I may get these boxers bronzed.” He tossed them aside and trailed his fingers over her thighs, slipping inward as he got higher. Her flesh quivered and she let her legs fall open.
He gave a rumble of pleasure, the growl more like an animal than a man, and touched her sex. She knew she was wet. There was no hiding her obvious arousal. He gave another of those sexy growls and teased the tender flesh, circling her opening before sliding one finger inside. Gwen cried out and arched into his touch.
The sheets beneath her were warm, the air of the room cool against her skin, but Jacque’s touch was hot. Her breathing was quick and shallow, making her breasts sway with each inhalation. All his attention was on his hand tucked between her thighs. The dark tanned flesh of his body against her paler skin was a huge turn-on and her slick channel got even wetter.
He worked a second finger into her and she moaned as he stretched her sheath. “I have to taste you.” He withdrew his fingers, leaving her feeling empty and abandoned. She didn’t like the sensation at all. That worried her and reality threatened to intrude. But before it could fully take hold, Jacque was lying between her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them wide.
His eyes seemed to glow, reflecting the light, and she swallowed a cry, not sure if she wanted him to stop or continue. He wasn’t human. Not fully. But when he lowered his mouth to her aroused flesh and tasted her with his tongue, she no longer cared.
For better or worse, he was the one she wanted.
His tongue was slightly rough against the slick folds of her sex, stimulating her almost to the point of orgasm, tracing every crevice until he came to the apex. Her clit was screaming for his touch, and he didn’t disappoint.
She cried out his name when he stroked the hard nub. She wanted—no, needed more. An orgasm was almost within her reach and those had been far and few in her life.
He gently pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked. At the same time, he pressed two fingers deep into her core, setting off minor explosions inside her. Gwen felt totally alive, her skin tingling, her entire body straining to reach its ultimate goal.
“Jacque.” She whimpered as he withdrew his fingers and drove them deep again. He sucked hard on her clit, pressing the nub with his tongue.
Pleasure exploded, sweeping her away in its wake. Her entire body shook and her sheath rippled around his fingers, coating them with her essence. She cried out and closed her eyes, letting the darkness settle around her.
His touch changed, getting lighter, less demanding, soothing rather than arousing. Gwen’s entire body felt electrified. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
What had she done?
She’d just had sex with a man who’d kidnapped her. No, that wasn’t quite true. He hadn’t gotten anything out of this deal. She, on the other hand, felt better than she had in a long time. Her muscles were loose and warm and her aches and pains weren’t quite as bad as they’d been earlier. Even her head had stopped hurting.
She opened her eyes and peered down at Jacque. As though sensing her gaze, he lifted his head from between her thighs and smiled at her. It made him look not quite so intimidating. His hair was rumpled from where she’d dragged her fingers through it. There were small, crescent marks on his shoulders where she’d dug her nails into his skin. His bare chest with its springy hair and slabs of muscles gleamed with sweat. He was still wearing his jeans.
He levered himself up beside her and she couldn’t help but notice the rather large bulge pressing against the front placket. “I don’t understand,” she began.
He touched his index finger to her lips. “There’s nothing to understand. I wanted to pleasure you, taste you.” He licked his lips. “Touch you.” He feathered a finger over her nipples one at a time, making them stand at attention once again.
“What about you?” She swallowed hard. Now that the moment was past, she was uncertain about what she’d just done. She tugged at the ends of the shirt, trying to drag them over her exposed body. Jacque stopped her.
“No need to hide from me, chère.” He pulled the ends of the cloth from her fingers. “I’m not going to take you. Not yet. You’re still recovering from your accident, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
Was this guy for real? He broke into her home, scared the crap out of her, wrecked her car—although if she was being truthful that had mostly been her fault—and kidnapped her. The life she’d known was over and he’d just given her a mind-blowing orgasm. Was it any wonder her thoughts were a jumbled mess.
He brushed aside a lock of hair. “You need a bath. A soak in a hot tub of water will help ease your aching muscles.”
Gwen knew he was right. “Okay. You go on and do whatever it is you do around here and I’ll get a bath.” She needed some alone time to figure out her next move. And that was next to impossible to do with him sitting next to her half naked and looking all sexy and rumpled.
He shook his head. “That’s not how this is going to work.” He rolled off the bed and adjusted the front of his jeans. That had to be uncomfortable.
“How is it going to work?” She didn’t take orders well. He’d better understand that quick or they were going to clash even more than they already had.
“I’m going to run your bath for you. Stay here and rest and I’ll be back in a minute.” He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on her lips. She could taste herself on his mouth and she licked her lips, savoring the unusual flavor. It was odd, yet strangely arousing.
She watched him saunter out of the room, admiring the way his jeans cupped his taut butt like a second skin. Jacque moved quickly and smoothly for such a large man. Seconds later, the sound of running water reached her ears.
Okay, so she could get behind this idea. She tugged the edges of the shirt around her and let herself drift on a wave of contentment and exhaustion. Now that the sexual excitement was over, her body was making its various aches and pains known once again. Surprisingly enough, the bruises on her torso, the ones that he’d licked, didn’t hurt nearly as much as they had earlier. Had he done something to them or was it simply the endorphins from great sex making them feel slightly better?
Either way, she supposed it didn’t really matter.
She must have dozed, for the next thing she knew she was being carried out of the room and into the attached bathroom.
“I’ve got you.” His words penetrated her sleep-muddled mind and made her relax, which really didn’t make much sense. She had no idea why she trusted Jacque so much, especially considering what he’d done since they’d met.
Maybe she was really having one of those psychological reactions that they wrote papers about—Stockholm syndrome or something. But it didn’t feel like a syndrome. It felt real.
He let her feet touch the floor, waiting until she was steady on her feet before stripping off her shirt. That woke her in a hurry. She was clad only in a pair of men’s sweat socks. And how sexy was that. Not. She didn’t even know why she was worried about looking sexy. She didn’t want him to think of her that way. Did she?
“Stop thinking so much.” He picked her up and sat her on the edge of the vanity. The cool marble made her jump when her bare butt hit it. She glared at him but he ignored her as he swept off the socks. When she was totally naked, he picked her up again and lowered her into the tub of steaming water.
He was constantly lifting and carrying her, and at five-eight she wasn’t a small woman. It was a novel experience for her and made her feel feminine, almost delicate. Maybe it wasn’t politically correct to admit that she liked it, but she didn’t care.
His muscles rippled as he removed his arms and stepped back. The steam had his bare chest gleaming. She wanted to touch him, to sink her teeth into his scrumptious flesh and take a bite out of him.
“Gwen.”
“Hmmm.” The hot water was beginning to relax her.
“Stop looking at me like that or I’m going to drag you out of that tub and fuck you against the wall.”
His powerful words startled her, but she wasn’t as opposed to the idea as maybe she should have been. Her nipples pebbled and her sex spasmed at the thought of having Jacque’s hard cock buried inside her. She licked her lips and he swore.
“You’re hell on my good intentions, chère.” Jacque braced his hands on either side of the tub, leaned down and kissed her hard, plunging his tongue inside for a quick taste.
She was thinking about inviting him in when he raised his head and snarled. “We have company.” H
e kissed her again and stood. He planted his hands on his hips and stared at her, his eyes devouring her breasts and the thatch of hair between her thighs. She didn’t even try to hide her body from him. What was the point? He’d seen every part of her. Seemed a bit foolish to be worried about him seeing her naked at this point.
“Who is it?” Fear rushed through her and she started to stand. It was one thing to be naked in front of Jacque, another thing totally to be vulnerable around other people.
He gently pushed her back into the tub. “Relax. You’re safe here. All you need to do is sit back and let the hot water ease some of your aches and pains. You can come on out to the kitchen when you’re done with your bath or you can go back to bed and rest. Whatever you want.”
“But I’m a prisoner,” she reminded him.
His eyes grew dark and she read regret in them. “You have to stay here, Gwen. It’s for your safety.” He rubbed a hand over his chest. “And I can’t let you go.”
He spun on his heel and left, his loping gait one of a predator about to go hunting. She swallowed hard and stared at the door. It was almost closed, but not quite. She should get up and lock it. Heck, she should get out of the bath, get dressed and try to make a run for it.
Instead, she sat back and relaxed in the steaming water. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, and if she were feeling stronger she’d be able to make better decisions. It was the sensible thing to do and had nothing to do with a certain overbearing, cocky werewolf who’d just given her the most amazing orgasm of her entire life.
Gwen picked up a cloth and started washing her arms and legs, leaving the more tender parts for last. The water was cooling by the time she’d finished.
She carefully stood, using the towel bar next to the tub to steady her and then stepped out onto the bathmat. Now that her head was a bit clearer, she took a good look around. The bathroom wasn’t huge, but it was well designed. The walls were rustic wood and the floors were slate tile, which matched both the shower and tub surrounds. The vanity was a gray marble and the fixtures were brushed nickel. It was a masculine space, yet Gwen didn’t feel out of place.
Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 Page 7