But she didn't let him off the hook. "Even now, what?" Her voice had become low and throaty, plunging right to his core.
He swore under his breath. "Don't look at me like that, sweetheart."
"Like what? Like I want you to kiss me again? Like I want you to kiss me like I'm the only thing in the entire world that matters? Like I want nothing more than to lose myself in your kiss, in the feel of your body against mine? Like I've never felt at peace anywhere except in your arms, in my whole life?"
He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Bryn, there's a side of me you don't know. One you can't comprehend." He opened his eyes, and he knew that they had shifted from green to the amber gold of his wolf form. "I want to fuck you until neither of us can move. I want to own every inch of your body and soul. I want to claim you so completely that no man can get within a hundred yards of you without knowing you're mine." His fingers tightened in her hair. "That's my wolf talking, sweetheart. The ruthless predator who knows only about survival and fighting for what is necessary to live...which means you."
Her eyes widened, and she caught her breath. Tension strung through the air, so taut that a single breath could sever it. Every muscle in his body was razor sharp, primed and ready to attack. "My life is hell," he said softly. "If I make love to you, I'm not letting you go, and you don't want to trap yourself in my life. I'm a fucking werewolf, sweetheart. Wolf. I left you the first time for a reason. I'm not going to be able to walk away again."
She stared at him, and his heart seemed to congeal in his chest. He needed to drive her away, but he couldn't lose her. He needed her. He needed her on every fucking level of his soul. He'd never been a good guy, and he sure wasn't one now. "If you don't get up right now," he said, even as his leg tightened over her hip. "I'm claiming you. You won't ever be free of me."
He wanted her to throw him off her and escape. He wanted her to repudiate his lifestyle and save herself. But at the same time, he knew it would break him. He needed her, and he needed her to be willing to stand by him. If Bryn wasn't afraid of him, then he knew that there was something worth saving about himself. "Get up," he whispered, sliding his hand behind her neck to cup the soft flesh there. "Get up, get dressed, and get away from me."
She met his gaze, unresisting as he increased the pressure on the nape of her neck, drawing her closer to him. "Without you, I have nothing," she said steadily, not looking away from him. "I'm not afraid of your life. I want to be here, with you, wherever it takes us."
He wanted to give her another chance to change her mind. He fucking wanted to. But he couldn't. The moment she said those words, that moment she offered herself to him, he took it.
Chapter Nine
CASH'S KISS WAS searing intensity and raw need, so desperate that tears filled Bryn's eyes. She clung to him and kissed him back, her entire soul burning for the man in her arms. What had begun as something innocent and pure so long ago was now a tangled web of heartache, tragedy, loss, and connection. Cash had always been a part of who she was, and the sensation of his hands roaming her back and sliding beneath her camisole was incredible. With every kiss, a part of her seemed to settle, and the pain that had been etched in her heart for so long began to fade.
With a low growl that made her heart quicken, Cash rolled her onto her back. He lowered himself on top of her, pinning her beneath the muscled strength of his body. He was a lethal combination of sinewy strength, lightning-quick reflexes, and elemental danger on every level...but he always had been that way. He'd never been soft, except with her. He'd never been gentle, except with her. He'd always lived on the edge, a feral outsider, lurking on the fringes of the society that would never accept him.
But now she knew why. He'd always been a wolf, long before he'd ever shifted. He'd been different from the people who existed in sheltered, empty lives, unable to embrace the depths of who they truly were.
Cash slid his lips over her jaw, kissing down the side of her neck with fervent heat, sending desire cascading through her. Bryn trapped his hair in her fingers as he dragged his teeth over her collarbone and then lower, over the swell of her breasts, his mouth closing over her nipple through her camisole, in a searing swell of pleasure.
She arched her back, needing more, shifting restlessly beneath him as he palmed her other breast with his hand. "I want this," she whispered. "I want you."
"Are you so certain?" His fingers slid over her chest, along the lace of her camisole to the V between her breasts. He paused, tracing the lace as he kissed along the path his fingers had taken. He lifted his head to look at her, and her breath caught at the golden color of his irises. His pupils were dilated in the darkness, an animal adjusting to the low light. He looked wild and untamed, hovering on the edge of control. For the first time, she began to understand what he meant. As dangerous as he'd been before, he was different now, so much more...but so was she.
She framed his face with her hands, her heart aching for him. "I love you, Cash. I always have, but it's different now. You know that, don't you? You understand that's why I want this, right? I'm yours. I always have been, but you're mine, and I'll fight for you as much as you fight for me."
His eyes darkened to a deep amber, and then, with one effortless move, he tore open her camisole, ripping the soft fabric cleanly. The cool air hit her breasts, and her nipples hardened. He didn't move to kiss her. He simply gazed reverently at her body, his fingers brushing reverently over her breasts. "So beautiful," he whispered.
She smiled at the awe in his voice. "They're just breasts," she teased.
He looked up at her, and there was no humor in his eyes. "They're yours, and that makes them beautiful." He cupped one in his palm and pressed a kiss to her nipple, not a kiss of seduction, but a kiss of tenderness and reverence.
Tears filled her eyes, and her heart ached with longing. "How is it that you always make me feel so special? You've always been able to do that."
"Because I believe you are." He took her nipple into his mouth then, swirling his tongue around the taut peak, sending sparks of desire shooting through her belly. His mouth felt amazing on her skin, a decadent promise that made her belly clench with desire.
She instinctively arched into his kiss, needing more, wanting more. He continued his assault with his mouth, and slid his hand down her side, over her hip. He'd touched her hip hundreds of times in her life, but it was different now, burning with purpose and sensuality. She felt as though his touch had left behind a path of flames on her skin.
He moved up and kissed her neck, just below her ear, his hand moving in tempting circles on her hip. "I want more," he whispered. "I want skin. All of it. Mine."
Heat flushed her body. "Then take it."
He growled softly, and lightly bit her neck, making her jump. Then he sat up, still straddling her, and ripped off his shirt. His muscles were taut and defined, the body of a predator in prime physical condition. Golden hairs framed his chest, and she instinctively reached for him, running her hands over his lean body. "You're the one who's beautiful."
He laughed then, grabbing her hands and pressing a kiss to each of her palms. "Men shouldn't be beautiful. Ruggedly handsome. Hot as hell. Blistering with sexuality."
She laughed aloud. "Blistering with sexuality? Really?"
"Damn right." He grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head. "I've been wanting to get you naked ever since my first wet dream when I was thirteen. Don't screw it up by calling me beautiful." He kissed her again, hard, penetrating, ruthlessly. It wasn't until she was panting and squirming that he finally released her.
She dug her hands beneath the pillow, her chest heaving as he kissed his way down her body, over her breasts, along her ribs, across her stomach, to the waistband of her stretch pants. She caught her breath, and lifted her head to look at him.
He was watching her face, his chin brushing against the elastic. He hooked his fingers over the sides of her pants and grinned so devilishly that she burst out laughing. "And finally,
she's mine," he whispered in a voice so sinister that chills prickled down her arms.
"You're terrifying," she said, swallowing hard as he began to tug her pants down.
"Damn right." He kissed her belly button, never taking his eyes off her face. "Don't ever forget it." He kissed lower on her belly, sliding her pants over her thighs.
Heat rushed through her when she realized he was taking her underwear with the pants. "You're not leaving me with any modesty?"
"Fuck that." He ripped her pants off in one swift move. "You can't hide from me, woman. It's too late for that." Then he grabbed her thighs and dragged her across the bed toward him.
She shrieked in laughter, but the laugh died in her throat when he pressed a kiss between her legs, a kiss that made her gasp in shock. He was ruthless with his kisses, invading her body on every level, biting just hard enough to make her squirm, his tongue masterful, his fingers playing her body like he'd known it his whole life. She was utterly vulnerable to him, exposed to him in every way, completely at his mercy, and he knew it. She could tell in the possessive way he gripped her hips, in the fierceness of his kiss, in the tautness of his shoulders.
Desire built inside her, twisting more and more tightly, until she could barely even think. Pleasure seared though her, the kind of agonizing pleasure that needed relief, but each time she came close, he backed off, not giving her respite, stringing her along until she thought she was going to break. It was torturous perfection, holding her at the precipice, owning her body and making her his. She twisted under the assault, her ankles locked around his shoulders, surrendering herself to him. An orgasm swelled inside her, and he pulled back, cutting her off just before she went over the edge.
She opened her eyes as he sat on the edge of the bed and ripped off his boots. Perspiration beaded on his shoulders, his eyes glowing amber as he raked his gaze over her restless body as he stood up and yanked off his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free.
"You're amazing, Bryn." His voice was reverent and low, almost a growl as he followed her back onto the bed, showering her with kisses so intense that she couldn't even think. "I love your body," he whispered. "You're sexy as hell. Every man's dream."
Bracing himself on his elbows, he held himself above her as he kissed her again, a ravenous, claiming kiss that made her entire body clench with need. She kissed him back, her legs instinctively parting as he sank his hips between her thighs, his cock pressing against her entrance, teasing her, tempting her.
He broke the kiss and pulled back enough so she could see him. His eyes were pure gold now, with not even a fleck of green. He held her gaze, his eyes boring into hers as he shifted his hips. "Now, you're mine," he whispered, and then plunged deep inside her.
She gasped, gripping his shoulders as he filled her. Tears filled her eyes as he went still, watching her, waiting for her to adjust. "We finally did it, didn't we?" she said, trying to keep the tears out of her voice. It felt so right with him, a lifetime that had led to this moment. She was overwhelmed, almost afraid to feel all the emotions he was stirring up inside her.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear that had trickled free. "It ain't over yet, sweetheart." He kissed her again, and then began to move his hips, sliding out of her with tantalizing slowness, before driving deep again.
Again and again, he thrust, always kissing her, always touching, his hands roaming her body and igniting every part of her, gliding over her breasts, her hips, and across the sensitive folds of her body, until she was so tightly strung she felt as though she were going to explode.
And then, this time, just when she was hovering on that precipice again, he plunged deep, tearing away her last vestiges of self-control and unleashing a tornado inside her. She bucked and gasped beneath him as the orgasm rushed through her, clamping down on her so ruthlessly she knew she would be lost forever in his arms and in his lovemaking.
"Bryn." Cash went rigid, plunging into her as the orgasm caught him, sweeping them both into a swirling whirlwind of ecstasy. She clung to him, holding on for dear life, losing herself completely in him, in their joint orgasm, and in the connection that made her complete.
* * *
Happiness was a state that Cash had never been able to comprehend. It had always felt superficial and shallow, a mirage created by naive idealists who wanted to torment people into striving for an impossible state. But as he lay in his bed with Bryn in his arms, he was filled with a sense of satisfaction and peace that had to be pretty damn close to happiness.
She was on her side, her head resting on the front of his shoulder, tucked against his side. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her more tightly against him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He loved the feel of her body against his, and he knew he would never get tired of it.
Ever.
They'd fallen asleep after making love, and it was late evening now. Christmas Eve. Thirty-six hours from when she was supposed to show up in court.
"Cash?"
He smiled at the sleepiness in her voice. "Yes, sweetheart?"
"You know I love you, right?"
His smile faded, and his throat tightened up. They'd told each other a thousand times that they loved each other when they were younger. He was so used to saying it with her that it just slipped off his tongue without thought. But the way she'd just said it was different. It was more, the kind of love that a man would never walk away from, the kind of love that deserved to be honored and cherished. The kind of love that involved long, leisurely nights of hot, sweaty bodies, not innocent hugs of friendship. The kind of love that could destroy someone.
She poked him in the chest. "Hello? Are you there?"
"Yeah." He rolled her onto her back and settled on top of her, bracing himself just enough to keep his weight from crushing her. He tangled his fingers in her hair, studying her carefully. Her hair was lighter than it had been, and longer. Her blue eyes were the same, but there was more weight in them now. Sadness. A grim awareness of the dark side of life. She was his Bryn, but there were shadows on her soul that hadn't been there before...as there were on his.
She smiled, her face contented and peaceful. "You look very handsome."
He grinned. "That's better than beautiful, but not rugged enough."
"You're a lethal, dangerous predator who looks good enough to spend the night with?"
His smile faded at her joke. "Too accurate."
She sighed and locked her hands behind his neck, resting her forearms on his shoulders. "So, what next?"
"With us?" He wanted to snatch her up, throw her into the back of his truck, and disappear with her...but he couldn't. Not with Jace's life at stake. And the truth was that Damien still wanted her dead. She was tangled up in the grittiness of his life, and he hadn't figured out a solution.
"With Jace. With Damien."
He dropped his head, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "I don't know." While she'd slept, he'd lain beside her, wracking his brain for a solution that would clear them from Damien, but nothing worked. Even killing Damien wouldn't free Jace, and the man was too smart to be trapped in a confession. "I don't fucking know what to do."
She wrapped her arms around his head, cradling him to her. "I'm not afraid," she said softly. "I'm not afraid to die, so don't worry about that."
"What?" He lifted his head, staring at her incredulously. "You don't want me to worry about the possibility of you being killed? Are you kidding?"
She blinked. "When I told the police I'd seen Jace kill Melissa, I knew that I would most likely be killed by Jace's pack. I accepted that." She touched his face. "I've found you again, Cash. If I die, I won't be alone now."
"Jesus." He rolled off her, too tense to lie still. The idea of her dying was like an electric shock to his system, a threat so severe that he could barely think. He'd just found her. He'd just claimed her. She couldn't die. Sweat broke out on his forehead at the idea of her being killed. "Don't talk like that." He grabbed h
is jeans and yanked them on, adrenaline racing through him as he fought for control. His wolf was raging, desperate to be unleashed to protect his mate. He could feel his temperature rising, his skin prickling, his muscles burning with the need to shift and defend that which was his.
"Cash?" Bryn was staring at him, her face pale. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He turned away, bracing his hands on the counter of his kitchenette, fighting for control. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he tried to clear his mind. But his wolf was angry now, enraged, on the defensive. The mere mention of her death had sent it into a rage, and it wasn't backing down.
Bryn touched his back, making him jump. He spun around and grabbed her upper arms, yanking her toward him. He crushed her against him, kissing her fiercely, pouring his wolf's anger into the kiss, claiming her, showing his wolf that she was safe, that she was his, that she wasn't in danger.
Bryn made a noise of protest and pushed at his chest. "Your skin is on fire," she gasped, her eyes wide. "I feel like you're going to burn me."
"It's my wolf." It was all he could say through his clenched teeth as he fisted her hair and kissed her again, hard, ruthlessly. "He won't let you die." He backed her against the counter, his body hard and taut, his wolf raging to be unleashed. "I can't hold it back," he gritted out. "Son of a bitch."
Bryn grabbed his shoulders. "What do you need?"
"You." His voice was a guttural growl, his wolf fighting to get out. He knew what happened when the wolf came out on its own. It was bad, so fucking bad. He'd have no control. He'd be owned by the animal. "I need to show my wolf you're safe. That you're mine. I need to fucking mark you."
Her eyes widened. "Okay."
He fisted her hair, his vision starting to shift to black and white. "I'm not going to be gentle." He had only a minute, maybe two, until he lost the battle he hadn't lost in years.
She lifted her chin, defiance blazing in her blue eyes. "I'm not a porcelain doll, Cash. You won't break me." Before he could make a decision, she grabbed his face and dragged him down to her, kissing him fiercely.
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