Down & Dirty (Bundle) (12 page)

Oliver didn’t stop, just kept working his
fingers in and out of her, the serrated edge of his teeth biting
gently into her breast as his tongue flicked over her.

The first climax hadn’t
faded when the second took her, and this time she
did
scream. She fisted
one hand in his hair as the other clutched at the blanket above her
head and tried to hang on through the waves of pleasure that
wracked her body.

It was good. It was
fucking
fantastic
.
But the large fingers thrusting so skillfully into her were nothing
more than temporary relief. Every time her pussy clenched around
them it accentuated a deeper ache, one that no amount of pleasure
could fool.

“
Dammit.” He lifted his
head, revealing eyes that had shifted from blue to gold. “Is it
helping at all?”

She was past the point of
lying, or even trying to be delicate. “Fuck me.
Please
fuck me. Not with your fingers
-- with your cock.”

Oliver pulled away slowly, one hand already
working at his belt. “You’re small,” he rasped. “Stop me if I hurt
you.”

Their respective sizes had never seemed that
important before, but the difference struck her as she rose to her
knees and reached to help him with his belt. He had to be a foot
taller than her, and her hands looked tiny next to his.

The thought of being surrounded by all that
strength, of having his large body curled around hers, stirred
instincts darker than mere lust. Her breathing hitched and she
raised her gaze to his. “You won’t hurt me.”

It took him only seconds to shed his pants
and push her back onto the bed. His cock matched the rest of him,
big and solid, and Hazel ached as she waited for him to come to
her. When he did, climbing over her and between her parted legs,
the electric touch of his naked skin on hers made her tremble.

He braced himself on his outstretched arms
and hesitated with the head of his cock prodding her pussy. “I mean
it, Hazel. Tell me --”

She inched her hands under
his, driven by that dangerous instinct to give up control to him,
to trust him with the raging need inside her. “I’m so ready for
you. I’m wet and aching and I
need
.”

He gripped her wrists with
a groan. “This is --” The rest of his words were swallowed in a
growl as he surged forward and drove into her. And if she had been
a little less desperate, a little less
consumed
in the grip of the mating
heat, it might have hurt.

Instead it was perfect, riding the edge of
discomfort but staying just on the side of pleasure. She moaned and
forced her eyes open again, staring up into eyes that still looked
more wolf than human. “Do I feel good?”

“
Good.” The word seemed
torn from him. He drew back and thrust home again.

It was growing harder to concentrate on his
words. She slid her legs higher up his side and moaned deep in her
throat when the movement eased him even deeper. Her eyes fluttered
shut as she tried to draw breath.

Oliver licked her lips and chin. “I’ll make
it worth the wait,” he promised in a low, hoarse whisper. “When I’m
finished, you won’t be able to walk, but you’ll feel so damn good
you won’t care.”

She could barely make sense of his words.
She needed powerful thrusts that satisfied the wolf, that claimed
and dominated. Maybe later she’d be grateful for the gentle
consideration, but now she squirmed, trapped by the press of his
hips and his grip on her wrists but desperate for more. “Harder.
Take me harder.”

He drove into her again, obeying her
pleading words with another harsh groan. “Hazel --”

“
Yes!” She got her legs
around his back and rocked up into the next perfect thrust, so deep
and powerful it pushed her over the edge. Pleasure tore through
her, driving her head back as she screamed and let go of everything
she’d been holding inside.

It felt so good it almost
hurt. The unbearable pressure that had built over months of
self-denial exploded as her wolf embraced a mate. And not just any
mate, but
her
mate, the one she’d chosen and stalked so patiently, the one
who had belonged to her long before the human had realized how deep
her feelings had grown.

With everything she’d ever wanted in her
arms, Hazel gave in to bliss.

Oliver Russell was in hell.

He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood
and rocked through another of Hazel’s orgasms, closing his fists
around the blanket when her pussy gripped him in a hot, rippling
caress. She went wild under him, and he cursed silently.

Don’t come. Just don’t
fucking come.
Hazel had been hurting,
almost sick with fever, but the last thing either of them needed
was for him to lose control and let the fever take him,
too.

She panted his name as she
came down, her voice hoarse from the screams she’d stopped trying
to hold back. She was nearing the limits of her endurance, but he
knew all too well that this was only the beginning. After a few
hours of sleep and something to eat she’d be hot for him again,
desperate for sex until she’d worn them
both
out.

“
Shh.” He slowed and
stopped, his cock still throbbing and hard. “You should rest for a
while.”

Her dark eyes drifted open, filled with
confusion and a hint of doubt. “What’s wrong?”

He brushed her hair off her forehead. “We
can stop now. You’ll be okay if we do.”

“
But you didn’t --” She
swallowed, and she sounded self-conscious as hell. “Did I do
something wrong? I-I told you, it’s only been humans…”

He still trembled with the effort it took
not to keep pounding into her until his own release came, hot and
blinding and perfect. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But we’re not
-- I mean, this isn’t --”

“
Good?” It sounded
heartbroken. Hazel closed her eyes and lifted her hands to his
shoulders. “Help me make it good for you.”

His heart twisted. “It’s good,” he rasped.
“But you don’t want me, Hazel. Not like this.”

“
I do.” She rocked up a
little, a tentative gesture that tightened the muscles at the base
of his spine and made his cock twitch. “I want this. I want you to
feel like I do.”

Even that tiny movement
undid him, and he bent his face to her neck as he began thrusting
again, hard and fast. “Help me let go.”
Make this be all right.

She shuddered beneath him and shifted one
hand to curl in his hair as her body rose to meet his thrusts.
“Will -- will it help if I come again? Because it won’t take
much…”

He didn’t know what would help. His skin
heated, and he felt his control slipping away again. He bit her
with a growl and raised his head, knowing what she’d see in his
eyes -- the wolf. The rutting animal. The beast even his own wife
had always feared.

Her eyes had slipped from brown to amber.
She growled and lifted her head just enough to bite his chin,
turning what should have been a gesture of submission into a
challenge. “That’s right,” she whispered, and her voice held a wild
edge this time. “Fuck me.”

“
I’ll fuck you.” The words
sounded almost feral, even to his own ears. “Until you can’t take
it anymore. Until you beg me to stop.”

Hazel dragged his mouth down to hers and bit
his lower lip with a hoarse groan. She tightened around his cock as
she ground up into his next thrust. “I’m going to come,” she
whispered against his mouth. “So fucking hard, so fucking
long.”

Oliver growled again and lifted one of her
legs higher on his back. “Scream, Hazel. Tell me it’s good.”

“
It’s perfect.” She bit his
jaw, then his earlobe. “The only thing better would be me on my
knees with you fucking me so deep I can’t remember anything but how
your cock feels.”

The words, spoken with such
enthusiasm, were the last thing he expected, and the final blow to
his control. He threw back his head and managed one more thrust
before the world went white and then dark, with quick, tight pulses
of pleasure running down his spine. “
Fuck
, Hazel…” She just ground up into
him one last time and came with a scream. Her pussy clenched around
him and drew out his pleasure until they were both panting for
breath.

He rolled as soon as he stilled, bringing
her on top of him as he came to rest on his back. “Hazel.” It took
him a moment to catch his breath. “Are you all right?”

She reached up with a shaking hand to push
long strands of dark hair away from her face. “Yes.”

“
Nothing hurts?” As soon as
the words left him, he could have kicked himself.

Hazel just laughed, soft and languid, and
kissed the center of his chest before turning to snuggle her cheek
against it. “I’m not fragile, Oliver.”

He started to wrap his arms
around her but let them fall back to the bed. “Now you
really
need to rest
before we head out for my place.”

“
Is that where we’re
going?” Her voice sounded drowsy and unconcerned. Trusting. “I
think I tore my dress even more taking it off. Can I wear the
blanket?”

“
We’ll wrap you up,” he
assured her, finally sliding his hands across her back. “You’ll be
warm. Safe.”

Her breathing had begun to even out. “I’m
already safe,” she murmured. “With you.”

“
Sleep, Hazel.” He needed
to think, but he couldn’t, not with her naked body still pressed
against him. “Sleep.”

Chapter Three

Hazel had been past Oliver’s house plenty of
times, and had even been outside of it once or twice with Ginny.
But in all of the time she’d longed for him, she’d never set so
much as a toe inside.

It didn’t look like she
expected. It looked like a place Oliver only stayed, not like where
he
lived
. No knick
knacks or mementos lined the shelves, and everything was spotlessly
neat.

He ushered her inside and knelt by the
hearth. “I’ll get a fire started, then I’ve got to check on my
stock. Do you want to go back to sleep for a little while?”

She was more hungry than
tired, and not just for food anymore.
Which means if I want to stay sane long enough to eat, I need
clothing.
“Do you have something I can
wear? Maybe just an old shirt or something?”

Instead of heading for the bedroom, he rose
and stripped off his own shirt. “Here.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest. Warmth
flooded her as she stared at his broad shoulders and the hard
muscles of his arms that flexed as he held out the shirt. If she
reached out she might touch him, and if she touched him she’d be
begging him to fuck her before she could draw another breath.

Which was all rational and reasonable, and
didn’t explain what made her release her hold on the blanket and
let it slide to the floor at her feet. “Thank you.”

“
On second thought…” His
eyes darkened as he looked over at her. “If you can start the fire,
I’ll head out to the barn.”

The fact that he wasn’t physically running
didn’t help the urge to chase him. Hazel drew on the stubborn
strength that had gotten her through the last few uncomfortable
months and managed a short nod. “I can light the fire.”

“
Good.” He turned and
walked out the front door again, still bared to the
waist.

When he was gone she let out the breath
she’d been holding and picked up his discarded shirt. It smelled of
him, which soothed the wolf as she pulled it over her head. The hem
hung past her knees and the shoulders were impossibly wide, but at
least she wasn’t naked anymore.

Of course, she wasn’t exactly in the mood to
be playing with the fire, either. She built up her own fire every
night during the winter, but it took four tries just to get a
simple feeble flame to stay lit. Her mind kept skittering away from
mundane details to linger on the curve of Oliver’s shoulder or his
lean waist or the impressive girth of his cock, which had felt so
damn good…

The piece of wood she’d
been clutching slipped from her suddenly limp fingers and landed
directly on top of her tiny fire, which promptly went out. Hazel
swore and started over, struggling this time to fight the images
that taunted her as the urge to mate grew inside her.
You held out for months,
she told herself sternly as she coaxed the fire back to
life.
Ten minutes won’t kill
you.