Lord of the Wolfyn - By Jessica Andersen Page 0,43

voice catching on the word.

“The wolfyn have some redeeming qualities,” he said huskily, and scooped her up in his arms, so she was cradled against his chest.

She squeaked and struggled a little, but then subsided to nibble her way up his neck as he carried her into the main room. And she gave another small, “Oh,” at the sight of thick blankets piled on the bed and a fire in the hearth. The room was warm and suddenly cheery, and the sight made her throat tighten, because he had done this for her. Even in the heat of things, he had wanted her to be comfortable.

She swallowed past the lump of emotion. “You’re a prince.”

“I was, once.”

Hating the hollowness in his voice, she said, “You will be again. When we—”

He kissed her, cutting her off. Then, still kissing her, he lowered them both to the wide mattress, so she lay beneath him with her legs alongside his, his thighs between hers and the long length of his erection pressing against her stomach, pulsing with an inner beat that resonated deep within her.

Desire washed through her like a friend she’d only just met, feeling so much sharper and more important than ever before, building higher and higher still as they kissed and he notched one thigh between hers, creating intimate pressure as he stroked a hand from her rib cage to her knee and back again in a feather-soft caress that seared her skin and made her want to beg.

New wetness gathered, new aches sprang to life, as he shaped her, touched her, but also arched into her touch, and paused to absorb the sensations as she licked his throat, then pushed on his shoulders to roll him onto his back so she could move lower, then lower still.

“Wait, Reda. I— Ahh.” He gave a full-body shudder at the first touch of her tongue along the distended vein on the underside of his shaft. “Gods.”

He made a move to touch her, but then she took another stroke with her tongue, a long lap from base to tip, and he fisted his hands in the soft, heavy bedding instead, then groaned when she did it again, finding the places where the textures changed and he was particularly sensitive. Where in the past she had been take it or leave it on oral sex, now she reveled in it, storing up his responses and glorying in the way he was submitting to her.

Soon his body was strung tight, his hands working in the bedding, his heavy length jerking in her mouth in movements that spurred new heat inside her.

He said her name, caught her hand, urged her up his body, and then, when they were chest to chest, rolled them so he was in charge once more, pressing her into the bedding with his good, solid weight. Both of their bodies were damp with excitement, slippery with passion, and as he settled between her thighs, his slick, hard length slid naturally into position, poised for entry.

Reda shifted against him, teasing them both with the slide of his blunt head through her slick folds. But then she stiffened. “Wait,” she said, almost too late remembering that this might not be her reality, but it wasn’t a dream, either. “Do we need something?”

He struggled to focus through eyes gone nearly glassy. “Something?”

“Protection? For, um, diseases and other things.” Please don’t make me explain this.

“Oh.” His expression cleared, turned rueful and maybe a touch sad. “No diseases for my kind, to give or get. As for the ‘other things,’ because of the way my mindspeak works, I must feed from my mate’s throat before a child can be made.” She wanted to ask, but didn’t. It must have shown in her eyes, though, because he shook his head slightly. “No. Never.”

Guilty at the surge of a relief she had no right to feel, she reached up to soothe the hollow echo in his voice with a kiss that started soft and almost drowsy, and shifted something inside her. The softness gained an edge, the drowsiness fled to a demand and the guilt turned to greed, and the desire not just to have him inside her, but to have him, to belong to him and him to her.

But knowing that was impossible, she broke the kiss, pressed her wet cheek to the faint rasp of stubble along his jaw and whispered, “Now. Please, now.”

She closed her eyes, shutting out the daylight, the strange surroundings and the danger