Dual Embrace: 3 (Shadowpeak Wolves)

Held flush against his body, his arm a band of steel around her back, Dusty fused her lips against his. With his free hand, he opened the door. It slammed against the wall. He twirled them into the house, pushing her up against the wall.

Shivers raced through her body. In one swift, hard move, he pulled off her t-shirt. Her nipples pushed against her cotton bra, demanding to be set free.

Breathing heavily, Dusty tugged off his shirt, staring hungrily at his muscular chest. Running her hands over his smooth skin, she leaned in and bit first one nipple then the other—arousal coursing through her with his throaty groan.

“Quickly. I want you,” she demanded. Undoing his jeans, she shoved them over his trim hips. His cock drew her full attention. He was thick and erect, and her mouth watered as she grasped him with one hand.

He rested his palms on the wall behind her, as though he needed the added support to hold him up while she squeezed his silky shaft.

Dusty flicked her thumb over the head of his cock before running her fingers up and down again, riveted by the feel of him—hard, hot. He clasped the top of her pants and stripped her. Lifting her, he took off down the passage.

“Cain,” she protested.

“Our first time is going to be in a bed,” he explained gruffly, letting her stand once he’d reached the bedroom. Then he was on her again—kissing her, caressing her, driving her insane. Dusty barely noticed her bra and underwear disappearing. Lust had submerged her.

As he threw her on the bed his eyes glowed. Her wolf stirred, reacting to his, displaying her interest.

An interest that wasn’t only sexual.

Ruthlessly, she shoved the wolf back. Kneeling, she crooked her finger at Cain.

“Come here,” Dusty ordered huskily. There was no hesitation as he dropped to his knees on the bed before her. He pushed her onto her back, coming over her.

“Condom,” she gasped.

He stilled then rolled, opening a drawer beside his bed. Jealousy surged through her as she considered why he had condoms by his bed. Of the other women who’d been in his bed.

No, Dusty told herself. She didn’t care. This was sex, nothing more.

Covered, he slipped the head of his wide cock inside her. Tight muscle stretched as he slowly drove forward.

“Faster,” she gasped.

“No, too tight.” His voice was strangled.

Dusty drove her hips up, forcing more of him into her.

“Dusty, no,” he groaned. “Lie still, you’re too small.”

“No I’m not. You’re so damn wide. I won’t break, Cain. Take me. Please. Hard. Fast. Like you know you want to.”

He thrust in another inch. “Patience, sweetheart, patience.”

The endearment shouldn’t have warmed her the way it did.

Bit by bit he entered her, pushing her arousal higher with each small thrust. By the time he was fully immersed they were both panting hard, bodies slick with sweat and hot with need.

“Now we go fast.”

And he did. Back and forth, deep, long. Dusty’s nerves were wound tight. The need for release pounded through her.

“I’m going to come soon,” Cain groaned. “And you’re going to come with me.”

He hit that spot within her perfectly, driving his cock over it again and again.

“Now.”

She exploded.

* * * * *

Dusty waited until Cain fell asleep before quietly slipping from his bed. Moving quickly, she grabbed her bra and pulled it on, then looked around for her panties. She’d left the rest of her clothes at the front door but her panties should have been here. Somewhere.

“Damn,” she swore.

“They’re on the dresser,” a deep voice told her.

“Shit.” She looked over at Cain.

“Running away, Dusty?” he asked, sitting up.

Her eyes narrowed. “No. I’ve got work to do. I’m taking Laney into the store this morning.”

He turned and looked out the uncovered window at the black night. “Oh I’d say you’ve got a bit of time.”

“Look,” she bit out. “This was nice and all, what we did here. You’re a great fuck, but that’s all it was. A fuck.”

His arms crossed his chest. Double damn. He was going to be stubborn. Well, she wasn’t exactly known for her easygoing, relaxed disposition. She hadn’t gained the status of enforcer by being a pushover. Dusty took as tough a stance as she could manage when she was mostly naked and met him glare for glare.

“And what does your wolf say about that?” he asked. “Because I’ll tell you what mine says. That you’re mine. I may not be a betting man, but I’d wager everything I own that your wolf says the same.”

Dusty shifted nervously before stilling the telling movement. She slammed her wolf into submission, not wanting to hear what the beast was trying to tell her. Had been trying to tell her since the moment Cain had moved to the estate.

Mine.

There was no room in her life for a mate. Casual sex, a bit of fun, sure. But she couldn’t do forever. Could she? No. It was a foolish wish. Male werewolves were very possessive. Any hint of danger toward their mate and they went into overprotective mode. They wanted their mates behind them, running from trouble.

Dusty liked to face it head-on.

If she let her wolf have her way and mated Cain, then she knew he’d insist she give up being an enforcer. She couldn’t let that part of herself go. If she did, she was afraid there would be nothing left.

No. She refused to have anything more than a fuck-buddy. She would not be dependent on anyone.

She always insisted on a condom, no matter who she slept with. She wasn’t about to risk getting pregnant, or worse, finding her true mate. If Cain was her true mate, then having sex with him without a condom would join them for life. Connected. Forever and ever.

She was really not ready for that kind of commitment.

“My wolf thinks whatever I tell her to. I’m leaving.” Stalking toward the dresser, she slid her panties on with as much dignity as she could muster. “We can’t do this again.”

One-night stands were all she could have. If she let him, he’d work his way into her life.

Not going to happen.

He snorted.

She grabbed the doorknob.

“Dusty?” he called and she stopped, cursing herself for her weakness. She longed to jump back into that bed, to touch, to taste and sate herself with his body.

“Yes?” She didn’t turn around—not wanting to look at him, lying naked in the sex-tousled bed.

“You can run. You can have your space. But I will be here. Waiting. And you will be back.”

Not going to happen.

Six weeks later

Dusty Sanders was hiding.

It was humiliating. She’d always prided herself on being a no-nonsense, kick-ass bitch. But since she’d been injured in a bomb blast, she spent more time sneaking around as if she were a rebellious teenager than she did whipping anyone’s ass.

Although my luck might be changing tonight
, she thought as she caught sight of three scruffy bikers leering at her from across the room. The largest one grabbed his crotch and puckered his fat lips up into a kiss.
Ick.
She resisted the urge to shudder and sent him a withering glare. He laughed.
Dumb, very dumb.

Dusty grabbed her modified walking stick. A quick twist and a nasty blade would appear from its base. Shifting her shoulders, she felt the reassuring blade resting along her back. And she had another knife hidden in her boot. She might have an injured leg but she wasn’t helpless.

No matter what her pack might think.

She’d needed some space from her well-meaning pack, which was why she was drinking at Samson’s tonight. Samson’s was a rough biker bar on the outskirts of town, not a place her packmates would visit.

Weeks had slowly ticked by since she’d come home from the hospital and yet her pack was still treating her with kid gloves. Looks filled with pity, meaningless platitudes, conversations shushed when she passed by—enough was enough.

And the worst part? The pack didn’t even know how much trouble she was really in.

She couldn’t change.

She could sense her wolf—she just couldn’t reach her. It was as if there was a barrier preventing them from merging. Inanimate objects didn’t change when shifters did, so she knew if she changed that the plate in her leg could do more damage.

When she’d first arrived home she hadn’t sensed that anything was wrong. But then she’d noticed that she couldn’t access the wolf’s heightened senses or superior strength. Things she should have been able to reach without having to change. Panicked, she’d thrown her good sense out the window and tried to change. Nothing.

Dusty felt lifeless, dull, half of herself.

She was practically human.

And didn’t that bite?

Slamming her empty glass down, Dusty glared at the vinyl-topped table.

“Got something against whiskey?” a voice asked. Immediately her temper stirred. She was not in the mood for company.

“No,” she snarled, not bothering to look up. Hopefully he’d get the picture and piss off.

Unless he was looking for a fight. Then she might just accommodate him. She needed a way to release some of her pent-up energy. No one in the pack was interested in helping her. Well, no one except Cain. And she wasn’t going near him.

No way, nuh-uh.

He was the other reason she was hiding. Being near him was way too much temptation. That one night they’d shared hadn’t been nearly enough.

His dark face swam through her mind.

Shelter. Protection. Heat.

Arousal washed through her body, filling her with longing. She could leave here, go back to the estate, track him down and jump his bones.

No. She shook her head. No. Cain needed someone whole, with a lot less baggage. She could have had everything. But she hadn’t been willing to take a chance, to bend a little.

Although she hated to admit it, she’d been scared.

That same day she’d left his bed, her life had changed irrevocably when she’d been injured in a bomb blast at Laney’s bookstore. She’d woken up to the realization that she had nothing. No job. No life. No mate. No wolf.

So here she was, trying to drink herself into oblivion.

Too bad it wasn’t working.

“Well then, perhaps you’d allow me to buy you another whiskey, a decent one?”

She glanced up, fully intending to tell this jerk where he could stick his offer, when her gaze hit his face and she choked on her words.