Legend of the White Wolf
Page 16
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"Only one thing will make me feel better." He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her closer, his body barely touching hers, yet every inch that did, sizzled with heat. He kissed her lips, gently at first.
But gentle wasn't what she seemed to have in mind as she slipped her arms around his waist, hugged him even closer, molding her sensuous curves against him, and licked her lips, making them glisten in the low lantern light. Her eyes looked deeply into his, challenging him to play with her. He would have dived right in, but he was too intrigued and let her have her way.
In the beginning.
She kissed his lower lip with just enough pressure to stir him up. And then he intended to do his part, but she kissed his upper lip, her eyes now focused on his mouth. He savored the heat and fullness of her sweet mouth, the way she teased him with her light kisses. She opened her mouth and tongued his lips, exciting his senses even more, the scent of her arousal filling him with rampant desire. But when she withdrew her tongue, her lips still parted, offering him a deeper connection, he took the initiative, licked her velvety mouth and took advantage of her offer. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasted of her, memorized the hot wetness, the softness of her tongue and lips and mouth.
She slipped her fingers underneath his waistband, her nails skimming his naked skin, dipping toward his erec tion. His skin on fire, his senses staggered, completely scattering what he had in mind to do next. Nothing else intruded on his thoughts—the cold room, the wet braided rug beneath his bare feet, the aroma of the salmon cooked the afternoon before still lingering in the air. All vanished as he braced for what she would do next, her touch so pleasurable he was momentarily paralyzed into inaction.
Her long nails slid deeper and she smiled when she discovered he didn't have anything on underneath the jeans. She pulled her hands free from his pants, but before he could again take the initiative, she traced his erection hard beneath the soft denim, making it jump with her touch, the tip now exposed from the zipper riding so low and from her working him up. Despite trying to show restraint, he shuddered with her touch. He'd never had a woman work to pleasure him and the experience was astonishing.
With one hand, she dragged the zipper the rest of the way down, her fingers stroking his heavy arousal at the same time, while her other hand slid down the back of his jeans and cupped his ass. But then she pulled his waistband down and exposed him even further, the tip of his penis wet, ready to penetrate her.
Wanting to get her in bed and underneath him now, he slipped his hands down her back, intending to lift the vixen up and wrap her legs around him to carry her to the mattress, when his fingers discovered an intriguing secret. A flap at the back of her bunny britches. Quickly feeling around to determine a way in, he slipped his fingers inside, touching the curve of her naked derriere, and felt her tremble. He pulled his hands free, found the snaps, and with several pops, exposed her sweet, little ass. She smiled and slid her hands down his spine, until she reached his waistband, and slipped her fingers underneath his jeans, cupping his bare buttocks and squeezed.
Slow and easy, work her up the way she needed, he figured, but she was making it awful hard on him. And she knew it, too, the way she rubbed against his arousal, the soft flannel of her nightwear teasing him. He was hard with need, and he wasn't going to last with the slow approach at seduction. He slid his hands over her ass, lower still until he found her drenched curls between her legs. She shifted her feet so he could get better access and he obliged, stroked her deep, bringing forth a moan of uninhibited desire from her. Then he kissed her open mouth with his, speared her with his tongue, and pressed her harder against his erection, wanting to be inside her now.
She groaned and he capitulated. Lifting her off the floor, he carried her to the bed, his hands still cupping her exposed ass, her feet wrapped around his waist. But he soon had the bunny gear off, and her skin bared to him, peachy silky delight, her breasts perky and full, the nipples pebbled, her legs spread apart, offering him entrance.
He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a rubber. "Let me," she murmured, her eyes hot and sassy.
He jerked off his jeans, and he crouched over her, his engorged penis reaching out to her as he leaned forward. She slid the rubber up his shaft, her hands moving it with a firm stroke. He sucked in a breath, barely able to do anything but concentrate on every touch to the nerves so close to the surface. When she was done, he threaded his fingers through her hair, then shifted his hands to her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples, pulling and pinching. She moaned in response, arching her pelvis toward him. Her eyes remained fastened on his cock as if she was ready to devour him. Just her expression of intrigue and the way her hands worked miracles on his arousal nearly sent him over the edge.
Unable to wait a second longer, he nudged the thick head into her opening. Slowly he penetrated her tight sheath, allowing her to expand to his size, and pressed deeper as she wrapped her legs around him.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, as if she suddenly remembered the injury to his arm, pausing as she touched the skin below the bruising.
He groaned in response, eliciting a naughty smile from her lips. For the moment, he felt as if he'd never been bitten, nothing was hemming him in, the world was right again.
He tilted off her a bit so he could reach her most erotic spot, loved the way she tightened her hold on his waist as he stroked her into ecstasy, her pink feminine lips wet with need. She arched into his hand, begging for more, faster, slower, harder. And then she let out a shudder, a satisfied sigh, her face and nipples flushed, her body trembling, gripping his erection with the most erotic sensation as he renewed his thrusts.
Deeper, faster, he found she was the maker of heady dreams, the one he'd been needing to sate his sexual desires since he'd had any interest in the opposite sex. But she'd aroused something more primal, something darker, something that he couldn't identify. He wanted her, craved having her for something longer-term. Crazy. The blood from his brain had slipped into his cock and that was what was making him feel so light-headed, so powerless under her spell.
Her fingers dug into his butt, and he swore she came again. And that did it, with her hands squeezing his flesh, her inner muscles wringing his erection, he came with a final thrust. Spent, satiated, the most content he'd been in forever, he collapsed on her possessively, spreading his legs over hers, pinning her to the mattress, his erec tion still inside her. His.
"Hmm." She skimmed her nails down his back in tantalizing caresses designed to stir him up again, like a sexy siren bent on seducing him.
But she didn't need to make the effort. She'd caught his attention the minute she'd walked in on him when he was naked, towel-drying his wet hair in his hotel room. And he'd wanted her then, the offer of dinner only the beginning.
He chuckled and kissed her lips, tonguing her tongue, already wanting more. "If you'd stayed last night, I wouldn't have seen your erotic bed wear."
She laughed and pulled at his earlobe with a gentle tug. "I'll have you know I only wear that on snowy excursions when I'm going to be alone. Or at least think I'm going to be alone. It was a gift from a girlfriend for when…" She paused and a flicker of darkness fluttered across her face. But she didn't say anything further.
Not wanting to ruin the mood, although he desired to know what she was going to say, he kissed her cheek and rolled over, pulling her with him to cuddle against his chest, her legs spread provocatively over his, his hand stroking down her back to the cleft in her sweet little derriere. "Absolutely works for me." In fact, anything she wore, or didn't wear suited him fine. "I should start a nice hot fire."
The place was much too cold, and although he was still enjoying the heat of her body, he felt her tremble from the chill in the air and chill bumps were rising on her arm. He was ready to warm up the place and take another long winter's nap with Faith since he'd had such a fitful sleep last night and having sex with her had finally settled his unfathomable desire to run off into the woods.
But she was already pulling away. He should have expected it, because she'd said she was a morning person, but he wasn't, and he wanted to enjoy her in bed a good deal longer.
She glanced at her watch. "I was thinking about running back to the trailhead and reporting Lila's wolf attack and that someone had stolen our snowmobiles. Take you in to see a doctor also."
"Since whoever it was already returned the snowmo biles, I doubt the police would care. And my arm is fine now." He held her tight, still wanting to keep her in bed, to possess her, to prevent her from leaving. "Why don't you stay here until I get the place warmed up at least?"
That's when the sound of dogs barking in the distance caught his attention.
Instantly, a new primitive need ran amok through his system. The need to dominate the pack.
Chapter 7
CAMERON ACTED AS THOUGH HE WANTED TO KEEP FAITH IN bed forever, which was a heady kind of feeling she had to squash before she got used to the idea of having him around. Already the thought of returning alone to her home in Portland seemed cold and unappealing, when normally, being alone suited her fine, once Hilson took off. But God, she'd never had a man who could send her to the moon and back like Cameron had done. And despite her usual need to get up and get to work early in the morning, before the dogs had gotten Cameron's attention she probably would have snuggled with him longer. And more, if he'd wanted more. Which she didn't doubt for a second he would have wanted.
She sighed. Even though nothing would come of a fling with Cameron, maybe there was hope she could start over again with someone new, eventually.
But as soon as Cameron heard the dogs barking, his whole demeanor changed. At once, he acted much more interested in where the barking was coming from— probably his P.I. instincts. Was it Charles Roux and his sled dog team? She imagined it had to be.
The sound of snowmobiles drawing closer filled the air next. Before Faith could get free of Cameron and the bed, the snowmobiles parked outside her cabin, and a few seconds later someone pounded on her door, giving her a start.