by KH LeMoyne
Responding to her lightheartedness, he drew her firmly against him. “Those are the only ones worth having.”
“It’s all your fault. I didn’t have these kinds of expectations until I met you.”
Thank the Goddess. He could read the signals from her body, but her honesty reassured him he wasn’t alone in this miasma of sensation.
Her fingers skimmed over his hips and across his buttocks, and he clenched his teeth, thinking of icy cold waters as she played with fire. Delicate human. Fragile human. Beautiful mate. He replayed the litany in his head as he planted a kiss on the tip of her ear and then ran his tongue along her neck, tracing her rapid pulse. “Then I hope your expectations are flexible enough to wait until we’ve showered. I can’t fulfill your wishes in this space.”
“Expectations can be overrated.”
“You will always exceed my expectations.” He dipped lower, trailing his tongue over her breastbone, skin that delighted his taste buds. “But it’s not me I’m focusing on, Lena.” His hand cupped the moist heat between her legs, and he dipped a finger between her folds. Damn, she was already gloriously wet for him. “I’m used to demanding results in others every day. Do you expect me to be any different now?”
“Results from other shifters or other women?”
Again, the uncertainty in her voice roused his wolf. Neither man nor beast wanted her to doubt the solid link between them. “There’s only one woman who can hold my interest. You command me for pleasure.” He grasped her braid, pulling her head back so she couldn’t avoid him. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
“Mine.” Instead of delivering the kiss they both wanted, he brushed a caress across her lips and slowly stripped off the band holding her hair. Weave by weave, he undid the thick mink-soft strands and spread the fall across her shoulders. The steam misted over her like a lace of diamonds. “I’m yours.”
Her breath caught, and he plundered her lips. The taste of her, ambrosia as spicy as euphoria flooded his system. Too long he’d waited for her in his life and his arms. He longed to cover her with his scent, branding her as his.
With a final nibble at her lower lip to assuage his desire, he pulled back. He reached along the shelving installed on the wall. Fake honey? No. Chemical Mint? Hardly.
She eyed his process. “I’ve never seen you indecisive.”
“They aren’t right for you.”
That earned him her arms looped around his neck and a pepper of kisses along his jaw. He lost concentration for a moment, then pulled her tight against his body, his leg wedged between her thighs.
“That’s not my hair.”
“It seems I’m easily distracted.” He shoved aside a half-dozen bottles. Ah, sandalwood and jasmine, yes, both aromas to complement her heat—aphrodisiac for him and his wolf. He poured a dollop of the shampoo into his palm and waved it beneath her nose.
She closed her eyes as she inhaled with a delicate upturn to her lips.
“You agree?”
“Very nice, but I can wash myself.”
“Not the way I can. I still haven’t examined your entire body for injuries.” He grasped her hip and moved her against his thigh. “I need to be thorough.”
Patience. If he didn’t practice some, he’d have her up against the wall in seconds. Not good for her wound or his ego. He gently turned her back to his chest before he applied the gel to her hair.
The simple act of washing her hair almost undid him. His fingers wove between the silky, weightless strands as she melted against him. He massaged her scalp and then followed the trail of bubbles over her pert breasts. Teasing her nipples to hardness, he watched the rose hue change to tight berry-colored buds. Her head pressed against his shoulder as her low-throated moan echoed around them. His testicles drew tighter against his body, and his wolf forced a low rumble of pleasure from his throat. The wolf wanted a bite. Just a small one to appease its need to mark her. Deacon had a hard time demanding that his animal back down—hell. He wanted some small reminder that Lena was his as well.
Lena glanced upward in surprise. Instead of explanations, he pulled them both beneath the spray, turned her, and delved in her mouth. Their tongues teased as their scents mingled and their heartbeats pulsed faster.
She pulled away first. “I deserve the same liberty to check your battle scars.” She licked the fading marks on his chest. It took all his concentration to stand still as she licked every gash. Her teeth on his nipple snapped the end of his control.
“Not yet.” Gently, he pushed her down on the seat and sank to his knees on the tile between her legs. He traveled the same path as the bubbles with his tongue—her breast, the taut belly, the sweet nestle of curls—loving each part.
Reaching her knee, he startled. A small tattoo of a wolf print was etched on the delicate swell of her inner thigh. He kissed and nibbled at the tiny print, then worked his way to his true destination.
Pink and moist, her petals spread open for him. Parting her further with his thumbs, he bent and licked through her folds. Sweeter than honey, her cream coated his tongue and intoxicated him.
Her fingers dug into his hair, tightening their grip as he stroked and delved, each pass eliciting a feminine mewl that tightened his groin to a hardness more painful than pleasurable. He sought the tight pebble of her clitoris, teasing and driving her higher. Only when her body tightened, her thighs clasping his shoulders as her soft pants dissolved into small cries, did he plunge two fingers inside her, swirling them against a spot that had her keening like a shifter-born. He growled against her clit, bringing her over the edge as she contracted around his fingers.
So good. His own skin burned, satisfaction drilling deep from her unchecked response, even as his rock-hard cock tortured him.
Not nearly finished as she collapsed against the wall, he stood and lifted her in his arms.
Cuddled against hard muscles, Lena sighed. He’d somehow wrapped her in a towel and carried her to a chaise inside the bedroom. Yet even after her release, the only thing she wanted was more of Deacon. As he placed her on her feet, reality intruded, and she glanced around the bathroom. “I need my pants.”
Confused, he glanced toward the counter of new clothes, but with a heated embarrassment rising, she waved toward her old clothes on the floor. Without comment, he returned with her pants and watched as she dug in one pocket and brought out a foil packet.
“Looks like I’ve already underestimated you,” he said.
“It’s not mine.” She almost laughed at the quick rise of his brows and panicked look. “I mean—this is a bed-and-breakfast. I looked in the nightstand and found this. It seems you’re stocked for any chance encounter.”
He glanced where she’d pointed and swung back, a fierce intensity deepening the molten gold of his eyes. “You and I are not chance. Unexpected, yes, but not random.”
She mulled that over as he strode to the nightstand, opened the top drawer, and flipped through the items with one hand. Finding nothing, he slammed it closed.
“Next one,” she said, withholding a laugh.
He gave her a brief and curious look over his shoulder before he opened the next drawer. “You obviously took time for some reconnaissance while I was in the bathroom.”
Then, with the entire box of condoms fisted in his hand, he stalked toward her with a loose-limbed gait and a true predator’s gleam in his eyes.
“I had a few seconds to look around.” She shrugged as she swallowed hard and backed up, eyeing the box. “That’s an awful lot of protection.”
“I’m driven to exceed expectations,” he snapped with a slight quirk of his lips. “Not that we need these. My wolf can scent that you’re not ovulating. However, I don’t want you to have to trust me about that.”
“Wolf-scented birth control. That’s definitely a new one.”
He clasped her upper arms and bent toward her. Only a breath of air separated their lips. She smelled her scent on him, and for some reason, that started the swirl in
her belly all over again. She leaned closer, anticipating a kiss, only for him to pull back, flashing his teeth.
“What a tease.” With a snort, she cocked her head and waited.
He slowly leaned farther and feathered a kiss against her temple. Her pulse leapt. “I can assure you I won’t ever underestimate you again.”
“See that you don’t.” Her reply held more of a sigh than reproach. Not that she wanted to waste time on petty one-upmanship. Her tongue teased across her lips as the molten gold of his eyes mesmerized her.
The memory of his inscrutable look as he’d brought her to climax didn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. He was a force to be reckoned with, alpha or not. What a wonderful feeling the touch of his fingers percolated inside her. Heat swirled across her skin as her breasts tightened and her pussy ached. Mini waves of heat flared along her nerves. She pressed her legs closer together to stem the need building again. “Now I get to touch you.”
“If that is what you want.” He dropped the box of condoms to the side of the chaise and pulled her down to straddle his hips.
“One of the things I want.” She ran her hands across the solid muscle of his shoulders and followed the matting of dark hair sprinkled across his chest down to his navel.
His grip on her hips tightened as she covered his erection with her hand. Hot and hard, silk and steel. She could barely reach around him, but she took one long stroke down to test. He jerked beneath her and angled his head back with a groan. Empowered, she reversed for a longer stroke back and slid her thumb across the tip of his erection, teasing pre-cum around his flesh.
His eyes closed, and he hissed through his teeth. “Touch me or kill me. Which had you planned?”
At his warm chuckle, she continued but added a lick to his nipple, coaxing it into a hard nub.
“Death by pleasure it is,” he said as he grabbed a condom and ripped the foil with his teeth. “Two can play at that game.”
His hand moved hers aside as he sheathed himself, but his knuckles lingered and brushed between her thighs as he stroked his cock. Heat built again, and she moaned, grinding into his touch.
“That’s it, Lena. I love watching you come.”
“Not yet.” She struggled, wanting to finish but needing to feel him inside her. They’d played enough. Now she wanted his body with hers in this dance.
“As you wish.” His arm wrapped around the back of her thighs and urged her higher until the wide flare of his cock pressed against her opening. His teeth glinted in the moonlight, but his eyes held hers with humor. “There?”
“Bastard,” she whispered, but managed to wiggle a bit in his hold to sink down and fuse their bodies together.
Breathing hard, she slid against his skin, every part of them connected, every nerve ending alive. His growl rumbled in her ear, vibrating from his chest to her nipples. Her body was aflame, needing more of him. Of them. More contact. More motion. “Deacon.”
She hadn’t expected pleading to gain her ground, but he eased into her with delicate slowness until her pubic bone was nestled against his groin. “Now. Please.”
Then he leaned back, one hand gripping her hip as his gaze fixed on hers. “Lena,” he growled.
She lifted, and he pumped as she fell, but her rhythm dictated their speed. Torn by the need to delay the end, she exerted a diabolical slowness, attempting a delicious torture to drive him higher. The fire in his eyes and the nonstop rumble said he didn’t need torture. He was close. Yet he moved inside her at her command, pressing nerve endings she didn’t realize existed into full combustion. With a startled gasp, she realized he didn’t just feel her as she did him. He knew exactly how to play her body.
Holding her hips steady, he plunged into her until all she could do was hold on to his shoulders and lean her forehead against his. Wave after wave of pleasure stole her breath and drove her from one peak to the next. Then his thumb swirled around her clit, and she shattered. Tiny peaks echoed as he continued, seeking his own climax. She felt his muscles strain as he clasped her tighter and his low growl suddenly turned into a hoarse male cry.
Then he fell back on the chaise, tucking her tight against him.
A small breath eased through her. Then another. Followed by a shudder as she felt him still hard inside her. If she kept her eyes closed she would probably sleep, but she risked looking at him. They fit well together, like two bodies meant to be one. A silly thought, one inherently female. But she couldn’t control her dreams.
She glanced up, expecting to see him retreating. After all, they’d had magnificent orgasms and the man knew how to bring her body to life, but sex was sex. What surprised her was the bright gleam in his eyes, a sign she’d always assumed was predatory and possessive. Instead her heart told her she’d pleased him as much as he had her. And he wanted her again.
A rapid pitter-patter fluttered in her belly with joy. Maybe, just this once, she’d found someone immune to her curse. A man strong enough to hold her tight through the storm that relentlessly followed her. A man she wanted so much, she’d risk the unthinkable.
His beautiful eyes focused solely on hers as his hand glided over her back. “Enough?” he asked as he brushed his lips across hers. Then his cock twitched again inside her. “Or sleep?”
She lowered her lips to his chest and gently bit above his nipple. “Not yet.”
His laugh vibrated beneath her as he clutched her tighter. “It’s good we have a whole box.”
Deacon made quick work of tossing the condom and cleaning up. Lena lay curled on the chaise, already asleep. They’d made love several more times, but he finally weighed the benefit of healing through sleep against healing through orgasm and turned his effort to convincing her to rest.
Hands gripping the sink, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. His woman knew her mind and her pleasure. Better yet, she didn’t fear him. He ran a hand through his hair as he straightened and returned to the chaise.
How he wished the issues with Shanae, the ferals, and the murder accusation had disappeared. He’d give his left nut to buy all of them peace for a week with nothing but time alone.
Gently, he scooped Lena into his arms and carried her to the bed, pulling the covers over her. Her hand snaked out for his, and she made a soft sound of distress as he started to draw away. Instead, he kissed her shoulder. “I won’t be gone long. Be like this when I get back.”
“Boneless?”
“At peace.”
She opened one eye. “I notice you didn’t mention sated.”
His mouth kicked up in a grin. “If I’m not done yet, I doubt you would be. But I do want you rested.”
“I would pick you over sleep.” She yawned and curled into the pillow as Deacon rose from the bed.
“You already did. Three times.” He kissed her nose. “Right now it’s a contest I’m willing to lose.”
Lena turned to her stomach. A second later, her shallow breathing proclaimed she’d fallen asleep. He cast a glance at the door and tuned in to the restless noises in the house.
Matthew’s pacing two floors above echoed like hoofbeats against Deacon’s sensitive hearing.
In the kitchen, Grizz attempted quiet, but the rolling of drawers and the whoosh of the refrigerator door echoed with his efforts to create a meal. It wouldn’t be long before they’d all need to head to the hospital and deal with worried clan members.
He pulled on his jeans and headed for the porch off the bedroom as his phone buzzed.
“Deacon, I met with your lieutenant,” Wharton said.
“Did he give you all the details you need?”
“Yes. He went through all the names again. Are you sure you don’t want Breslin here doing this?”
“No. I want him here for the time being and you digging into the medical examiner and Sanders senior’s past.”
“I got it.”
Despite the good feedback, Deacon almost wished there were some issues. Squeaky-clean seemed fabricated. People, even his own
, almost preferred an underdog, someone with a black past turned to a new life. “I need you to make sure you cover every detail. This has to be thorough.”
“Marsh mentioned Sanders’s father was aware of all the deaths. He never came forward or pressed charges, and instead he closed his children’s record with Marsh. His opinions on reducing interactions with humans weren’t something he kept secret, but he didn’t interact much with anyone. I get why Hansen is confused by the discrepancies.”
“Sanders left nothing else behind?”
“No. He wasn’t the type to put thoughts into words.”
“What else do you have?”
“I’ve tracked down our medical examiner for the last death. The doc will only relay what he knows in person, so I’m headed there when he gets back from vacation in two days. Marsh has some old paper records he inherited from another of your lieutenants that I’m going to go through tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll find some details on Mrs. Sanders number one.”
“Take Hansen Sanders with you for both tasks.”
“You really want me to take the man who filed the charges?”
“Just do it.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll let you know what we find.”
Reluctant to wake Lena after all she’d been through, but needing her touch, he returned to the bed and crawled beneath the covers, pressing himself against her back. She sighed and moved closer as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her creamy shoulder.
The silver pendant cradled between her breasts vied for his attention. He resisted a brief touch to one pale breast before he lifted the intricately crafted piece of silver in his fingers. The silver pendant gleamed in the moonlight, the distinct etching embedded with tiny stones revealing Vendrick’s features.
How was it possible that the creator of his kind had found Lena as a child and rescued her? By itself, the incident should be enough to exonerate Lena from any misdoings against his people. However, few shifters knew of Vendrick, much less his influence on their lives.
Now, only Wharton’s investigation would permanently clear Lena of the charges against her. A child of horror himself, Wharton might hold the key.