Elizabeth's Wolf(43)

“Not insane,” she whispered as she lifted her head and licked her tongue over his lips, pressing against them, slipping it between them.

She shared the taste of his essence with him then. Her gaze locked with his, seeing shock flare in his eyes a second before he groaned roughly; the hand that had tightened in her hair pulled her head back until he could take control of the kiss.

His tongue tangled with hers, then followed it as it retreated behind her lips. He swept into her mouth demandingly, licking at her lips, her tongue, kissing her with a heat and hunger that had her moaning and arching into his touch.

“Damn you.” He tore his lips from hers, breathing roughly as he stared down at her. “You felt what happened last time, Elizabeth. You know what I did to you.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, smiling in anticipation. “Now do it again. Let’s see if it will work again the second time.”

Shock filled his gaze, then heat. Incredible, incendiary heat as he stared down at her intently. Slowly, a smile that could only be called wolfish curled his mouth.

“I’ll make you scream harder this time,” he warned her softly. “I’ll make you…”

He stopped, his head suddenly rising, eyes narrowing as he stared at the door.

“Dash?” Elizabeth felt his body tense dangerously, rather than in arousal. He was moving from her as she heard feet pounding up the stairs, then a hard knock at the door. “Get ready, Dash. Grange has men in town and they could be heading out here. We have to get you moving. I’ve called the pilot; fifteen minutes to landing.”

Dash snarled as his head turned, but Elizabeth was already out of the bed and pulling on the clothes he had left laying out for her.

“So much for a damned shower,” she muttered as she pulled her panties over her long legs, covering the glistening, soaked mound of her pu**y. “Dammit, I hate wearing wet panties.”

Dash turned for his own clothes, snarling in silent fury. Her panties were wet, his c**k was steel-hard and they were heading to a cold plane. He reminded himself to make sure he hurt Grange. Really bad. Before he finally got around to killing him.

Chapter Twenty-One

“You were loud enough to wake the dead,” Dash snapped as Elizabeth slipped around the corner of the cabin two mornings later. Sweat poured from her braided hair and down her face; her clothes were damp with it.

She had worked her way down the point in twice the time it should have taken her and she had ignored half of what he had told her along the way. He had caught her scent first thing simply because she hadn’t tested the direction the wind was blowing. He had heard her skirting the small clearing five minutes before, going in the complete opposite direction that she should have gone. She stopped, frowning, her blue eyes flashing with anger.

Her br**sts were heaving with exertion and nerves and he doubted she could have heard anyone sneaking up on her for the pounding of her own heart.

“I was quiet, dammit. I didn’t make a sound.”

“Do you think I would lie to you?” he growled. “I heard you coming five minutes ago. If this were Grange’s property the guards would have already had you down, stripped and f**ked. I told you, Elizabeth. Quietly. I showed you how.”

He was being hard on her. But if he could hear her that far away then those damned dogs patrolling

Grange’s estate could too.

“How much quieter do I have to be?” She was tired, irritated and ready to tear into him now.

“A hell of a lot quieter,” he snarled. “Turn around, get your ass back up to that point and try it again. Grange returns to his estate in two weeks. That’s it. End of training and kill time. You won’t be ready.”

“The hell I won’t,” she snarled. “Son of a bitch. You’re a Breed. Of course you heard me. Grange doesn’t have Breeds for soldiers, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t,” he said softly, smiling tightly, controlling the instinctive rush to protect her. “He has dogs. Big mean dogs trained to f**k nosy little girls who come creeping around his estate. You’ve had a taste of it, baby. Wanna try for the real animals now?”

Her face flushed in fury, her lips thinning as she stared at him coldly.

“Aren’t you just a barrel of laughs this morning,” she sneered. “Too bad you’re not as well trained as Grange’s dogs are.”

She turned on her heel and slipped back around the cabin as he felt offended anger flow through his body. He stomped after her, determined to teach her that soldiers never sassed their trainers. Not and get away with it.

As he rounded the side of the cabin he had no more than a second’s warning before his feet flew out from under him, leaving him on his back with a furious Elizabeth straddling his chest, the sharp end of a stick pressing to his throat.

“I get breakfast now, big boy,” she snarled, curling her lip in sneering triumph as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Who says I can’t be quiet?”

She had him. Damn her, she had tricked him so quickly he hadn’t even considered she would turn so sneaky.