A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,94
at this time of night…”
“Because he’s with his new mate, your cousin said.”
“Aye, true enough.”
“Well, since you’re second in charge…”
“When Ian is not on the premises or otherwise indisposed.”
“Then he’s otherwise indisposed…”
“If the matter is of the utmost importance.” He kissed her cheeks, his hands caressing her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples.
“It is.”
“Nay, it is not. The gate stays closed, except like last night when the pack was waiting for our return and the others who went searching for us. Keeping the gate closed now means security of the pack. The car can wait until morning. This can’t.” He pressed his heavy, hard erection against her thigh. “Lass,” Cearnach said, with such longing that she couldn’t have fought him to come with her outside even if she’d wanted to.
The men at the wall walk had been right. Once she woke Cearnach, he wasn’t about to let her leave his bed again that night. As much as she wanted her car back, and everything else her cousins had stolen, she wanted these stolen moments with Cearnach more. She also realized he was right about leaving the gate closed. She had been alone for so long, dealing with issues on her own, never with a pack to worry about or to be concerned about her. The notion was so alien that she couldn’t get used to it.
“You smell of the wind and fresh air, of the piney woods and the moisture from the thick mist.” He breathed in the scents that had collected in her hair like those of a wolf that had gathered interesting smells in her fur while exploring the woods, returned to the pack, and shared the scents with the rest of the members.
“You smell of sandalwood soap and sexy man,” she murmured against his mouth.
He took that as an open invitation to another mating.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, sliding his hands beneath her sweater, his hands hot against her cold breasts.
“I tried,” she said, leaning back against the bed and closing her eyes as she absorbed the feeling of his fingers splayed across her aching breasts.
“Not hard enough,” he said, pushing the sweater up until her breasts were exposed. “You’re ice cold. You shouldn’t have been running around outside without me.” He licked a nipple. “Certainly not without wearing a heavy coat when you’re not used to our weather.”
He leaned across her waist and licked her other nipple.
She smoothed his hair down, her eyes watching him, a small smile playing on her lips. “I love you.”
“I know you do,” he said.
He grinned and her smile broadened, right before she tried to push him aside. He didn’t budge. Instead, he clasped her wrists with one hand and held them above her head. Then with his mouth, he trailed kisses from her low-cut jeans to her throat and her mouth again.
“You think you’re one hot, bad wolf and in charge of me, don’t you?” she taunted.
“One hot, sexy Highland wolf armed and not wearing his kilt,” he said, tugging her jeans button open, then pulling the zipper down.
He smelled her scent: intrigued, excited, and sexually aroused.
“You’ll have to let go of me if you want me naked.”
“Nay, lass. I know what I’m doing.” He flipped her over and pinned her down with his body, his hands sliding underneath her, over her belly, up to her breasts until he had handfuls of the beautiful soft mounds. His body moved over hers, letting her feel his growing desire for her.
“Hmm,” she groaned, even though she didn’t want him to know how much he was turning her on.
He slid his hand down the front of her jeans, lower until he cupped her mound. He held her like that, as if he held her treasure in the palm of his hand, waiting for her reaction.
“Cearnach,” she pleaded.
He inserted his middle finger into her as deeply as he could.
“More,” she whispered.
He pulled off her sweater, then kissed her naked back. He pushed her hair aside and licked her neck.
She shivered, loving the sensation, and tried to turn over.
“Nay, lass. I’m in charge. The big, sexy Highland wolf, remember?”
“Bad wolf,” she said, and took a deep breath of his musky scent, validating his level of arousal.
He chuckled. Grabbing her waistband, he slid her jeans over her hips and buttocks, down her thighs and shins, until he could tug them off completely and toss them to the floor.
He pushed her legs apart, his arousal already painful with readiness. Kissing her shoulders and back and