Master of Wolves (12 page)

“I know who to call.”

But as he smiled at his sister, his gaze slid to Faith, surrounded by Sidhe warriors wearing calculating expressions. That's all he needed—the woman of his dreams courted by charming, horny fairies while she was in her Burning Moon.

Over his dead body.

Just before Jim's
self-control shattered altogether, one of the guards created a dimensional gate back to the palace. Glowing energy swirled into being in the middle of the tiny living room. Through the magical shimmer, they could see the elegant white walls of the palace, set with gemstones and accented in pure gold.

Faith's green eyes looked even bigger than usual as she watched the guards step through the gate. A moment later, they signaled it was safe.

Cotton Candy bowed over her hand and stared seductively into her face. “If you decide you need magical aid after all, I will be delighted to assist you.”

She smiled dryly. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Jim growled.

His sister elbowed him gently. “Behave.”

He curled his lip at her, in no mood for even false civility.

Diana caught Cotton Candy by the shoulder and nudged another eager warrior before he could work his way closer to Faith. “Come on, boys, I think it's time for a lesson in Alpha Werewolf Etiquette 101.” She steered them gently toward the portal.

Jim watched with a sense of relief as the whole lot disappeared through the gate. A moment later, the magical structure collapsed on itself, leaving the room dark and blessedly empty.

Except for the sweet, seductive scent of Faith.

He turned to face her.
Watch it, London,
he told himself, feeling his self-control rock.

“Was that a growl?” At the amusement in her voice, Jim's face heated.

“My sister said the Sidhe sense of smell is more acute than human,” he mumbled. “They knew you were in your Burning Moon.”

Her gaze flickered, but being Faith, she brazened it out. “So?”

“So that's why Cotton Candy was all over you like a rash.”

Her gaze cooled. She lifted one red eyebrow. “Because raging hormones are obviously the only reason he'd be interested in me.”

All Jim's experience with women warned him to back slowly away from this conversation, but he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut. “Those guys are users.”

“In my experience, good-looking men usually are.”

There it was at last—the elephant in the living room. After heating all morning, his temper went into a slow boil. “I'm not your ex, Faith.”

Those green eyes looked colder than emeralds and twice as hard. “Were we talking about you or my ex?”

“That's what you were driving at.”

“So werewolves read minds, too?”

Which would have been a smart man's cue to shut the hell up. Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn't a smart man. “I just know the way you think.”

“Whereas I spent the last month believing you were a dog.”

It was definitely time to shut up. He just couldn't seem to do it. “We've been over this. I was only trying to find out who killed Tony.”

“And using me to do it.” Her eyes narrowed into an icy glare. “There's that word again—
using
.”

“I'm not trying to use you, dammit. I care about you!”

“Spare me.” Her mobile mouth tightened. “Look, I understand all about the Burning Moon and pheromones. I understand blowing off tension with a little recreational sex. It's not necessary to bullshit me by pretending some emotional attachment that isn't there.”

“You really think I'm some kind of asshole, don't you?”

The cool shield over her eyes cracked just slightly. “I don't think you're an asshole, Jim. I think you're a guy.”

“Which you evidently consider a synonym for asshole.”

She threw up her hands with an expression of disgust. “Why are we having this conversation?”

He bared his teeth. “Because you need to get laid.”

At last, heat flooded those cool green eyes. “Okay, now
that
was being an asshole.”

“Yeah, it was.” He glared at her, frustrated and pissed. “It's those fucking pheromones of yours. They make everybody crazy.”

“So this whole fight is my fault?”

“Pretty much.”

“Kiss my ass.” She started to whirl away, but he caught her wrist and spun her into his arms.

“I've got a better idea—
you
kiss
me
.” He smirked into her eyes. “I dare you.”

Faith bared her teeth. “You have a hell of a nerve.”

“Yeah, and you're in your Burning Moon. All it would take is one kiss, and you'd go up in flames.”

“In your dreams!”

“Let's find out. Kiss me.”

She glared up at him for several seconds before rising up on her toes. He knew good and damn well what she intended, and it wasn't a kiss.

So he kissed
her.

 

Faith should have
bitten him anyway. She intended to. But his lips were soft against hers, and his mouth tasted of toothpaste, and something feral and delicious. Something that made her anger drain away. Trying to identify it, she slipped her tongue between his lips, wanting a taste.

Just a taste.

He rumbled a dark, approving sound against her mouth and angled his head, nibbling gently at her lower lip, then swirling his tongue over the little bite.

She drew back, breathing hard. “You know you can be a real sexist jerk, right?”

“Yeah. Kiss me again.” His arms tightened, drawing her closer. Instinctively, she rested her hands against his chest. He felt big. And firm, with lots of fascinating ridges and hollows, his skin warm under her hands, his chest hair fine and surprisingly soft. She stroked him while he kissed her, sipping from her mouth as if she was fine champagne and he wanted to make her last.

“God,” he breathed against her lips, “I've been hung up on you since the moment I saw you all buttoned up in that black uniform.”

Faith laughed, instinctively rejecting the idea he might feel something more for her than Burning Moon lust. “Got a thing for badges, London?”

“I've got a thing for you.” His hands left her back to cradle her face in long, warm fingers. Gently, he angled her head so he could lave his tongue over the corner of her lip, the jut of her chin. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging her head back, giving him access to the underside of her jaw. Pressing delicate little bites against the tendons and soft flesh, he explored slowly until he reached her ear. His nibbling teeth on her lobe made her squirm.

To retaliate, she raked her blunt nails across his ribs. He caught his breath and twisted his brawny torso back out of range.

“Ticklish?” she purred.

Jim gave her a wolf grin. “Are you?”

“I asked you first.” She strummed his flat nipples with her thumbs.

His eyes shuttered in pleasure. “Well, as long as we're doing that…” One hand tugged her uniform shirt out of her pants and stroked boldly upward. Skillful fingers tugged down her bra and captured the soft globe of a bare breast.

Faith gasped as he delicately tweaked the hard peak between thumb and forefinger. Pleasure shivered along her nerves until she had to bite back a moan.

“Like that?” Pale eyes watched her face, knowing and hot.

Her lips twitched. “Hate it.”

He grinned. “Too bad.”

Before she could protest—if she'd intended any such thing—he unbuttoned the neck of her shirt and whipped it off over her head. Reaching around her waist, he unfastened her bra and dropped it. Her breasts bounced in the golden light streaming through the living room windows.

All the humor fled his eyes, leaving them pale and intent with hunger.
“God.”
He breathed the word, a prayer of thanksgiving or plea.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Faith swallowed as he took one nipple in his mouth, engulfing it in sweet, wet heat. He suckled it with delicate little tugs, then used his tongue to roll the peak against his teeth. Her head fell back as pleasure rolled over her in a warm, foaming wave.

Lost in delight, she barely felt him unzip her pants and tug them down her hips, stripping off panties and pants in one smooth pull.

He turned his attention to her other breast, raking and suckling by turns as he reached between her thighs. One long finger brushed gently over the rise of her mons, stirring the soft hair.

Dizzied by the pleasure, Faith looked down, her hands instinctively cupping the back of his head as he licked and suckled each breast in turn.

He'd stripped her. Her pants lay around her feet in a little puddle, and she was naked under his skilled, determined hands. The morning light painted his muscled body in shades of gold. Unable to resist, Faith slid her hands down to rest on the broad planes of his shoulders.

One finger slipped between her lower lips and found her opening. She was so slick and ready for him, she gasped at the sensation.

Jim groaned. “God, you feel like every dream of pleasure I've ever had.” He thrust a finger inside her in one sweet plunge.

She shivered. “I don't even have dreams this good.”

“Let's see if I can expand your horizons.” Jim sank down further, kneeling at her feet. He looked up at her. “Spread for me.”

Faith licked her lips and edged her feet apart. “All right.”

Slowly, luxuriously, he leaned closer and inhaled, breathing deeply. Scenting her the way a wolf scents its mate. He licked his lips and leaned even closer.

The first touch of his tongue made her jolt up onto her toes, seared by the raw power of the sensation. She would have stepped back, but his big hands snapped up, catching her buttocks in warm palms and holding her still. With a low, masculine growl, he nuzzled her, then stroked his tongue through her slick lips.

It was like being struck by an erotic lightning bolt. Pleasure sizzled right up her spine, shooting her onto her toes. “Jim!”

“Oh, yeah.” There was a distinct note of satisfaction in his voice. She looked down to find him staring up at her, his pale eyes hot with lust.

He reached down and caught her right knee, steadying her with a hand on her left buttock. Before she could squirm free, he'd lifted her leg and draped it over his broad shoulder, opening her even more to his mouth. With a yelp, she grabbed for his head, steadying herself as he went to work with feral greed, sucking and licking, his tongue flickering over her clit and between her lips.

The force of her own hunger took her by surprise, as it suddenly flamed up in an erotic firestorm that soon had her grinding her groin against his face. He cupped her butt and licked harder.

Just as the pleasure started whipping itself along her nerves, Jim drove two fingers deep in her sex and started to pump. Faith stiffened as fiery delight pulsed through her consciousness in time to his strokes. With a shout, she came, convulsing in his arms.

 

The aftershocks hadn't
even died when Jim tumbled Faith to the floor, stood, and unbuttoned his jeans with a single impatient flick of his fingers. Dry mouthed, she watched as he jerked down his zipper and tugged at his briefs to liberate his cock. It spilled out at her in a long, thick rush, eager and hard as a gun barrel. And every bit as impressive as that bulge had hinted.

He grabbed her behind both knees and…

Stopped, his eyes widening. “Condoms! Damn, where did I put the condoms? My bedroom…” Before she knew what he was up to, he snatched her off the floor and carried her toward the stairs.

She bit back a shout of laughter as he climbed them three at a time. Looping an arm around his brawny neck, she looked up at his intent face. “You he-man, you.”

He slanted her an amused, feral grin. “Laugh now. Just wait until I get you into bed.”

Carrying her around the corner into his room, he strode for the queen-sized bed and dropped her in the middle of the mattress.

Naked and breathless, she looked up at him. Just the sight of that big body would have been enough to overcome any scruples she had—tall, hard, and strong as an Olympic athlete, his handsome face tight with need.

Jim reached into a drawer in the bedside table and fished out a condom. He stopped barely long enough to sheathe himself, his silver eyes burning into hers.

She'd never seen a man that so embodied sex—rough, raw, and wild.

Jim hesitated a moment, staring down at Faith as she waited for him, heat and challenge in her green gaze. She looked hotter than any wet dream he'd ever had, leaning against a pile of pillows, glorious long legs sprawled in front of her. Her body was lithe and strong, curves of feminine muscle adding definition under the soft pale skin. Her breasts lay deliciously full on her narrow torso, capped with tight pink nipples that tasted of woman and magic. The scent of her Burning Moon heat damn near buckled his knees. His cock bucked as his lust leaped even higher.

“God,” he breathed. “You're beautiful.”

Discomfort flickered in her eyes, but she grinned at him. “Back atcha.” Her tone was arch, a little flip, denying any possibility of vulnerability.

He'd deal with that later, he decided, taking one long step forward to catch her by the hips. She spread those pretty legs for him and wrapped her calves around his butt. The silken slide of her skin across his made him shudder with hunger.

Jim grabbed his latex-clad cock and aimed it for her sweet opening. Even as he started to push inside, he looked up to meet her eyes. He wanted to watch her face when he entered her.

Green eyes widened, and her mouth parted on a gratifying gasp. Jim groaned, sinking luxuriously into her deliciously slick, snug depths. She was so tight he had to work at it, even as wet as she was.

At last his belly touched the warm satin flesh of hers. He found himself panting as he braced his palms on the mattress, not from exertion, but from pure, driving need.

“Damn.” Faith gave him a little smile. “I know we did this once already, but—wow.”

Jim couldn't resist a cocky grin. “You ain't seen nothin' yet.” He only hoped he could hold on.

Carefully, he drew back, his eyes closing at the intense pleasure of her snug, creamy clasp. Rolling his hips, he sank deep again. Her tiny interior muscles rippled around him. He shivered. “God, don't do that. I'll never be able to last.”