Lord of the Wolfyn - By Jessica Andersen Page 0,41

ever would.

Tangling her fingers in his thick, rich mane of dark, wavy hair, she softened against him. Yes, she urged him inwardly. Yes.

As if he had heard her, he broke their kiss, pressed his cheek to hers and breathed, “Ah, sweet Reda. Sweet, sweet Reda. Come to bed with me?”

Her heart ached with his husky tone, her core with the need to have him buried deep within her. But she tipped her head toward the bathroom. “How about we wash off some of this road grime first?”

His eyes clouded, then cleared. “Really?” He glanced into the bathroom.

And there it was again, that gap between his life and hers. This time, though, instead of discomfort, it brought a new skim of heat and an added tug of desire. She leaned in, nipped his jaw and then touched her tongue to the spot she had just bitten. When his hands tightened rhythmically on her hips, kneading her against him, she whispered against his ear, “Then this will be a first for you, won’t it?” And a memory for him to take through the Meriden Arch when they parted.

Refusing to let the heat turn bittersweet, she caught his earlobe between her teeth, then teased him with soft kisses and light tugs as he swung them away from the wall and carried her into the bathroom. There, he let her down and, when she turned to the not-quite-familiar controls, he came around behind her, cupped her breasts in his hands and bent to kiss her neck, her ear, the side of her jaw.

She closed her eyes and swayed against him as the water came on and the streams from four nozzles intersected in the center of the glassed-in shower cube, filling the room with the roar of the spray and an unexpected fragrance that was part pine, part citrus and wholly enticing. Perhaps it was yet another type of wolfyn stimulant, because as the water heated and the glass started to fog, she felt an echo of the wolfsbene’s heat radiate from her to him and back again.

He crossed an arm between her breasts, gently holding her still as he slid his free hand down her body to toy with the snap of her jeans, all the while kissing her neck, driving her to a frenzy that was only increased by the fact that she couldn’t really touch him, not the way she wanted to.

“Let me,” he rasped against her throat, and for a second she stiffened, thinking she felt the sharp point of a tooth and, worse, knowing that if that was what he was asking, in that moment she wouldn’t have been able to deny him. But then her pants loosened and fell away, followed by her panties, and then he slid a hand down to cover her mound, hesitating when he found her entirely bare, waxed out of habit because she hadn’t wanted to admit there was no point, hadn’t been in a long time.

Now, though, that habit wrung an approving groan from him as he tightened his grip on her, pinning her against him. She moaned, her head falling back as he touched her, exploring and then pressing her back, so she could feel the shape of his hard ridge against her buttocks. She was wet for him, dying for him, yet he held her in front of him and stroked her mercilessly, gloriously, in and then not, his fingers sliding slickly against her hot, swollen folds.

She tried to curl around the sensation but he held her back against his chest so she felt every stroke of his clever, clever fingers. “Dayn,” she gasped, breath nearly sobbing in her lungs as her body tightened, coiling with the breathless anticipation that presaged orgasm. “I need… God, I want…”

“Let me,” he whispered again. “Let go.” And he slid two fingers deeply into her, then started thrusting with an increasing rhythm that had her arching into him and clamping around him with growing intensity.

“Oh. Oh, Dayn, I—” She broke off with a low, vibrant cry, shuddering against him as heat and pleasure washed through her, coalescing to the point where he was touching her, working her.

The world seemed to draw in on itself, seemed to hold its breath and go very still for…a…single…moment…and then she went over, clenching around his fingers with a strangled moan. Then she was coming, saying his name over and over as the raw, rhythmical waves suffused her, completed her…and then ebbed, leaving her limp and boneless.

She was so

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