Why? That's what she ached to ask. Especially when he had already admitted he wanted nothing from her but the next few nights. "Right now, I don't want to think." She just needed his touch — on her skin, and deep inside.
"Then tell me what you do want," he whispered, bringing them right back to square one.
He stopped teasing her br**sts with the silk, but before she could murmur her disappointment, he dipped his head, his tongue circling the dark ring of one nipple, teasing but not touching the oversensitive center.
Every inch of her trembled — ached — with expectation. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, enjoying his touch and the sensations storming through her.
"Not that," she said after a moment. Because as much as she was enjoying it, the moon and she both knew she wanted a whole lot more.
"No?"
The liquid touch left her skin as he shifted his attention to her other breast. This time, he nipped, drawing her nipple deep into his mouth, sucking on it hard. She gasped, her knees almost collapsing at the rush of unexpected pleasure.
"Nor that," she somehow said.
"Then perhaps this?" His tongue teased her skin again, and slowly, tormentingly, he worked his way down her belly. Goose bumps scurried across her sweat-beaded skin, and her heart hammered so loudly its beat seemed to echo through the silence.
When his tongue finally delved into her moistness, she moaned, and had to fight to keep her knees locked and her body upright. His fingers pressed against her thighs. Trembling, she widened her stance, allowing him greater access. His tongue delved deeper, and pleasure flowed like liquid fire through her veins, until her whole body quivered and throbbed to the tune of that gentle yet insistent touch. A touch that quickly created a tide threatening to overload her senses.
But at the precise moment she needed that touch the most, it left her. She groaned and opened her eyes, wondering what weird, tortuous game he was playing now. His gaze caught hers, seeming to delve deep into her soul. The intent, the hunger, so evident in his dark gaze assured her this was no game, but a carefully controlled seduction. Not only of her senses, but of her mind.
And perhaps, if she wasn't very careful, her heart.
Holding her gaze, he slowly, almost leisurely, stripped off his jeans and shorts and tossed them to one side. He was as hard as she was wet, and the sight of him made her throat go dry. Moons, how she ached to feel that hardness deep inside.
Placing his hands on either side of her again, he leaned forward and claimed her mouth. He tasted of lust, of love, and of her, and it stirred her in ways she never thought possible. When he finally pulled away, she could barely even breathe, and the throbbing ache was so fierce she thought she'd die.
"Tell me what you want," he said, voice soft but as fierce as his gaze.
She swallowed but could no longer deny the need pounding through her veins. "You."
Elation winged through the darkness of his eyes. "How do you want me?"
His touch slid through her slickness and delved deep. She moaned, arching into his hand but wanting so much more.
"Like this?" he asked, his voice little more than a husky growl.
She shook her head, too consumed by the sensations of pleasure shooting through her to do anything more.
"Then perhaps we'll try this." The heat of his flesh, the heaviness of his desire, pressed hard against her, until all she could smell was the spicy mix of man and lust, and all she could feel was the pounding of his heart through her br**sts and the pulsing of his need against her belly.
"Tell me what you want, Neva. Admit it."
She could do little else. Not when his gaze was so intense, his body so close, and her need so high. "I want to feel you deep inside."
Her voice was little more than a croak of sound, but a fierce and victorious look shone in his eyes. Then she was in his arms, and he was inside of her, thrusting so deep, enveloping her in a heat that was basic. Pure. So very powerful, and so very, very right.
His mouth found hers again, and their tongues caressed as the pressure built. His powerful body stroked fast and hard into hers, driving her insane with need. She writhed against him, matching his rhythm, matching his urgency. The sweet pressure built until it felt as if she would explode.
Then she did, and the force of her cl**ax damn near blew her mind. He came with her, his roar echoing across the silence, sounding as if he was howling her name to the moon. As their orgasms ebbed and sanity returned, he claimed her mouth and kissed her hard.
When he allowed her to breathe again, she opened her eyes and stared into the ebony recesses of his. The shutters were down, and what she saw there scared her. Because what she saw was caring. Deep caring.
It had to be wishful thinking. It couldn't be anything else, not with a wolf who had once sworn never to share his life or his heart with another.
He kissed her again, soft and lingering. "I think — " He stopped, his gaze hardening as he glanced toward the door.
In that instant, there was a sharp rap against the wood. She jumped, grabbing the edges of her gown and quickly tying them together.