Rosko, Mandy - Mate of the Wolf (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

“We really shouldn’t do this,” he said, voice pained.

“Yes, we should,” she replied, scraping her nails along his arms and under his T-shirt.

His chest expanded and contracted for air; glazed eyes moved up and down her body again, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A blind man gifted with vision and seeing art for the first time.

Shelley’s body burned like a rising fire. No one had ever stared at her like that before. Though people told her she was beautiful, special, lucky, no one ever looked at her like that.

Abruptly, she knew that if she said she was scared and asked him to stop, he would. He would stop, but she didn’t want to. He was being gentle for her sake, but she wanted this to be as much for him as for her.

“If we do this, there’s no turning back. Ever. It will be done,” he said, the last warning, the last thread of his resistance.

She didn’t care. She wanted him.

She said as much out loud, and Michael swooped in.

Chapter Six

Michael’s mouth against her lips felt like coming home in a thunderstorm. His hands slid under her pink shirt, producing a tingle and burn along her skin, as natural as if she were touching herself.

Mine. Mine.
This time the voice in her head was her own.

She pushed against his chest to sit up. Her fingers gripped the bottom of his cotton T-shirt, and he grinned when she pulled it up and off. He raised his arms to ease the way. Shelley balled it up and tossed it away.

Michael’s big hands touched her shoulders and did the same with her thin pink shirt.

Shelley grabbed a fistful of his long hair and pulled his face down, meshing her lips against his once more.

Michael pushed her back down with enough force that would have made her bounce back up had his weight not been pressing on her. She felt the excitement of his cock even though two pairs of jeans still separated them. Their mouths broke apart long enough for him to kiss the valley between her breasts. She shivered.

She was nearly as naked as he was now, wearing only a red bra and her girl jeans. His eyes widened at the heart locket at her throat.

Shelley looked down at it, surprised that he’d stopped. She’d entirely forgotten it was there.

The reason for his shock clicked, and she clutched her hand over the silver charm, protecting him. “I’m sorry, I forgot it was there. I’ll take it off,” she said, her voice breathless.

“I’m not allergic to silver.” He reached a finger out to touch the locket.

“You’re not? Really?” Wasn’t silver supposed to be the Antichrist to werewolves? But then again, he also didn’t change during a full moon either.

She opened her mouth to ask questions, but he beat her to it. “Is there,” he swallowed, “anyone special inside?”

He looked torn between jealous possessiveness and deep worry that she could be carrying another man’s picture around her neck.

“No.” She took his face in her hands so he would look at her and not the trinket hanging at her throat.

“Then who’s inside it?”

She blushed and bit her lips.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said, though he didn’t entirely sound it. “I know it’s invasive.”

She smiled. “Yeah, kinda.” She got the feeling that he couldn’t help it, though, so she showed him some mercy. “No one’s inside it. It’s empty.”

“Empty?”

“Yeah, look.” She opened the locket and held it out to him.

He took the tiny heart into his big fingers, looked, then brought his eyes back to hers. “Why would you wear an empty locket?”

She shifted under him, inadvertently rubbing her breasts against his chest. She stopped instantly at the thrill of electricity that ran through her, but that could wait two more minutes. Maybe. “I’ve been waiting to put someone special in it.”

It was true. She’d always wanted to put a lover’s picture inside. But the few lovers she’d had never stuck around long enough for her to even think of doing so. Putting her family inside had seemed pointless. They loved her, she had no doubt about that, but shopping her around as a child, hoping she’d get parts in children’s movies and commercials, hadn’t endeared them to her enough to make her want to wear any of them.

She’d wanted to put someone inside who didn’t care about whether she got a great part or what she wore on the red carpet.

Now that she had a mate, maybe she’d put Michael in it.

He leaned down and took her mouth again, taking her mind away.

Shelley moaned as Michael’s hand slid under her jeans. It was a tight fit, but he got there. He found what he wanted, and his palm started slowly rubbing through the curls, his fingers hooking and teasing in the folds of her sex.

Shelley’s body throbbed. She needed one thing to make it better.

Her fingers struggled with his belt, eager to get at the part of him that would make her ache so much harder, yet ease it at the same time. Finally the buckle sprang free. His button and zipper were cake after that.

Michael, the jerk, laughed at her while their mouths were still connected, offering no help at all. That changed when her hand found what it was searching for.

He choked back a groan when she gripped his cock. He was more than a fistful, and she shivered at the anticipation.

With their hands between each other’s legs, bodies tense with the sizzling pleasure that came from skin-on-skin contact, Shelley decided it wasn’t enough.

Her hand slipped from his cock, and she forcefully shoved him off. Startled, he rolled beside her, but she paid no attention to him as she yanked her jeans off.

Or tried to, anyway. Damned things were so tight it was like trying to rip off an extra layer of skin.

“Eager?”

She looked at him. His chest was heaving, and he was grinning at her, his cock up and arched onto his belly. From her vertical position, it kind of looked like a smile.

She mock glared at him. “This would be fast if you would help.”

He instantly slid off the bed and knelt before her, taking and moving her legs so he was hunched between them. His hands on her thighs, stroking and kneading through the tight denim, turned up the heat and got her juices flowing. She spasmed and moaned.

“Little horn-bug, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped, “and this horn-bug will sting if you don’t get her off.”

Her hips jerked, and a tear sounded. Shelley looked down and cool air hit her sweating legs. He was ripping her jeans down the seams like they were made of paper.

Excitement bubbled inside her. She was finding his strength to be a total turn-on now that he was putting it to better use. “Wow.”

He traced the groove of her knee with his tongue, all the while keeping those wicked golden eyes of his on her.

That was so hot.

He pulled his tongue away. “You like?”

She nodded, then pointed toward the shredded jeans on the floor. “Those are designer jeans, cost me nearly two grand, and I don’t care that you turned them to rags. So yeah, I like.”

He shifted around on his knees, then tossed his own pants away.

Shelley lifted herself up to look at him, her eyes naturally moving down to his cock. Full mast, long and thick. His hands were back on her legs as he kneeled in front of her like she was royalty.

She crooked her finger at him. “Come here.”

He obeyed. Such a rush.

Shelley lay back down as he climbed on top of her. Her legs opened and curled around his hips as naturally as if she’d welcomed him there a thousand times before.

His voice growled in her head again.
Mine. No one else’s. Mine!

“Yours,” she agreed.

Kill anyone who tries to hurt you.

He was chivalrous, too. She felt like swooning. “Fuck me.”

His gold eyes went so bright they burned. He growled low in his throat as his hand shot to grab her little lace panties. He didn’t rip them away like with the jeans, but yanked them out of the way as he plunged his cock inside her with an animalistic howl.

Shelley grunted as his weight pushed her deeper and deeper into the mattress, then moaned as the desperate surging and retracting of his cock stroked her pulsing inner walls.

They tightened, were on fire with need as Shelley’s head thrashed back and forth. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted, no,
needed
more. “Harder,” she demanded through a moan.

His arm snaked under her waist, pulling her toward him in what could have been a hug as he groaned and complied with her wish.

The heat of his body was too much. She couldn’t stand it, but it was too good. Her fingernails clawed along his back and shoulders, pulling at skin, muscles, and sweat. He moaned low, so she did it again.

And then she felt it—like a warm blanket wrapping around her and locking securely in place, locking her to him. His love, his thoughts, they all went inside her, and she was part of him now. And suddenly Shelley knew what he was talking about from before. When he said if they made love, there would be no going back. Ever. There could never be anyone else after this.

“Never letting you go,” he rasped, drawing her close, hips still pumping in fast and jerky movements.

“Don’t want to leave” was her reply.

His teeth clamped down on her shoulder, and she went over the edge with a scream, her belly and clit and everything else within her expanding and pulsing. Her body tightened around him. Not just her sex around his cock. Her arms, legs, everything tightened and clenched as she yelled out the best orgasm she’d ever had.

Her body calmed enough for her brain to catch up, and she smiled, pleased as she felt the warm spurts inside her, the tense and twitching muscles beneath her fingers, signaling Michael’s own climax.

He’d come as quickly as she had. Thank God. Otherwise she’d have been embarrassed to have lasted so short a time. Maybe this meant she did to him what he did to her. How long would she have to wait before they were both ready to try that again? Only this time have it last just a bit longer.

He stopped moving above her, tight shoulders relaxing. Then his teeth released her, and he leapt from the bed like it was on fire.

The sudden lack of body heat and shock of cold left her confused.

What the—?

The long howl outside bolted her straight up. Panic flung her from the bed and had her running nearly naked, but for her stretched panties, toward him.

There he stood, naked in the sunlight. Back straight and tight. Sweat glistening in the light, highlighting the muscles of his body as he angled his face up and howled at a moon that wasn’t in the sky yet.

His body shimmered, and long, coarse hairs began poking through the pores of his skin.

For the second time, Shelley watched his body change shape, cringing at the sounds of breaking bones, but he didn’t seem to be in any pain. When he fell forward his hands were already paws, his long, bushy tail returned, and his face lengthened into the furry muzzle of the wolf.

Change complete, the wolf shook himself off as though it had just hopped out of a pool, sniffed the air, and spotted her.