Blue Moon Brides: The Complete Series (66 page)

“Bedtime,” he growled when she surfaced long moments later.

Oh, please.

~*~

She pushed to her knees, the towel falling away. Christ, he was a lucky bastard. His Gianna was all sweet curves and full breasts, her creamy skin white and pink.

“I’m naked,” she said, like there was any way he hadn’t noticed. “Join me.”

He was so on board with that plan. He fisted the hem of his T-shirt, pulling the cotton over his head in one smooth move. Dropped the shirt on the floor. Her eyes were all over him. He’d done a whole lot of living in this body. As a werewolf shifter, he had a built-in immunity from injury, healing supernaturally fast. Hurt him bad enough and he scarred. Claw marks covered his rib cage from a close encounter with the original Alpha of the pack. He’d walked away. The other male had not.

“You’ve been busy.” She brushed her fingers over the marks and heat seared through him.

“Occupational hazard.” He figured she didn’t need to know that his opponent had tried to remove his heart the old-fashioned way, straight through his ribs.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, her fingers finding his belt. He helped her undo the leather and pop the button on his jeans. When her fingertips brushed the hot, wet tip of his dick, he jerked.
Jesus.
He wouldn’t last long at all if she kept that up. He shoved his pants down his legs and stepped out.

Her hands on his hips urged him closer, tugging until his knees bumped against the side of the bed and she moved between his legs. She kept her eyes on him the whole time, watching his face. Her hair fell around her shoulders, over his thighs, in the sexiest damned sight he’d ever seen.

“Is it my turn to eat you up?”

Hell, yeah.

“Whatever you want,
shug
.” He’d happily stand here and let her torture him. Like she’d read his mind, she skimmed her fingers up and down his shaft. The light touch barely touched his aching flesh, but he felt the connection between them all the way to his core. This was
his
female—and he was every bit as much hers as she was his. He knew this. Welcomed it.

She sucked just the wet, aching tip of him into her mouth with an erotic little pop of sound. Her mouth was hot and wet, her tongue rubbing against the head.  Once, twice, dragging her tongue over him, running the tip of it up the vein until she hit pay dirt where he was wet. He fisted his hands in her hair, hips rolling. He’d had women take him like this before, but this was different. This was Gianna. Gianna fisting him, opening her mouth up for him.

She sucked him in deep.

Her eyes flew to his face, checking to see how she was doing. Her gaze watching him was an even bigger turn on. Those brown eyes of hers stared at him, while she swallowed him with her mouth, moving up and down his shaft as he fucked her mouth.

Pulling free because, Christ, he was too closing to coming, he reached for one of the candles.

“You got any idea what I could do with one of these candles?”

~*~

Luc’s question sucked the air right out of her lungs.

“Not a clue.” She answered him, breathless from the erotic longing that slammed into him. She had ideas. Wicked, impossible ideas spurred by his capable hands turning the candle around. When she said
yes
—because it was a question of
when
and not
if
—he wouldn’t stop. He was a hunter at heart and he went after what he wanted until he caught it.

And he wanted
her
.

“Lie on your stomach.” His rough order was sexy as hell.

He was dangerous.

He was a wolf and a predator—and, for seven nights, all hers.

The sheet felt deliciously cool beneath her heated skin when she rolled over and gave him her back. He watched while she obeyed, his gaze sliding over her bare skin. Back, butt, thighs—all open to him. She shivered, her nipples pebbling where the cotton rubbed against them.

He ran a hand over her butt. “You wan’ me to show you?”

“Please.” A tremor of need laced her voice. She had to be able to see him, so she tilted her head to the side so she could watch. He held a Mason jar candle, creamy white, the kind of thing you put on the coffee table to make a room look pretty. It lit up the room with a romantic glow. Rain started to patter down on the cabin’s tin roof.

“Did you order that up just for me?”

He ran a hand down her back and she arched up into his touch. God, she loved his husky laugh. “You know I would have if it was a possibility,
shug
. But I’ve got my limits.”

He swung himself over the back of her knees, pressing her down into the mattress. He wasn’t a small man. She was aware of the weight and heat of him holding her in place so that there was no getting away. The flame flattened as he lifted the candle.

“Turn your hand over. I wan’ to see what
your
limits are.”

Obediently, mesmerized by the sensual note in his voice, she placed her hand, palm up, by her head.

He blew the flame out.

Anticipation consumed her as he tilted the candle. Curiosity. Heat. Oh, God. He titled the candle, the liquid wax falling in a thin ribbon. Sensation pooled in her palm, the shocking warmth burning through her skin, making her melt like the candle itself.

He righted the candle. “Do you like that?”

Too much.

“Do it again,” she demanded.

“So that’s a
yes
.” His eyes gleamed with lust and a wicked heat that burned her more than any candle could. He lowered his hand and carefully dipped his finger in the hot pool beneath the flame. “Tell me if this is too much.”

The rough pad of his finger traced her neck, rubbing the hot wax into her skin. Soft and silky, rough, hot. Her world exploded with sensations, pleasure coursing through her. She stretched, moaning, rubbing herself against the cool sheets. Pressing up into his heated touch.

“More,” he said and it wasn’t a question. God, he knew what she needed before she did. He tilted the candle and heat streaked down her spine. His hands rubbed the wax in, setting her on fire, and then he followed with the rough scrape of his tongue. The hot, sweet burn sensitized her skin like no touch had.

“Luc.” His name tore from her lips. Luc—more? Luc—what? Lost in a sea of pleasure, she had no idea.

“You wan’ to turn over for me?”

She rolled over, arching up into the hot trail of wax he painted over her stomach. Her skin warmed everywhere, anticipating the next sweet burning sting. The candle tilted, the wax ran down, hitting the sensitive slope of her breast, licking a fiery path towards her nipples.

“More.”
Don’t stop
. Her hungry cry filled the air.

“Come on then.” He pressed her thighs wider and she knew what was coming. Anticipation licked through her. He didn’t use the candle. Instead, he rubbed a wax-covered finger gently over her clit and she lost herself in the maelstrom of sensations. The sensations were so hot, so good. She screamed, the flames tearing through her body.

~*~

Luc blew out the candles, slipped the extra sheet out from beneath Gianna and dropped it on the floor. God knew, he didn’t want anything between them. He hadn’t known how far she’d let him push her. Hadn’t been entirely sure she’d stay with him. He hadn’t expected her curiosity and her hunger to match his, for her to enjoy the same dark edge he did.

His mate.

He didn’t want to count up all those wasted years when he could have been loving her, touching her. He’d let her go and he’d done his fair sharing of running. Now that was all over. He wasn’t wasting any more time. Standing by her side, watching her back?
Oui.
That was a lifetime commitment and he was…okay with that. Once mated, wolves were loyal. A wolf might kiss and touch, might love some on other wolves, but those touches were more about companionship and affection. Intimacy and closeness. What he’d explored with the other females in his pack had nothing to do with this fevered desired burning through him.

Gianna had waited. He’d left her hungry for ten years. No one else had driven himself inside that tight pussy or run his fingers over her satiny skin
.
He was a possessive bastard and she’d owed him nothing…but she’d chosen to give him the sweetest of gifts. Now he had her stretched out beneath him, teasing him with possibilities. Seven nights to convince her that her place was right here with him.

Gently, he rolled her over, urging her up onto her knees.

“You finally going to get inside me?” Laughter filled her voice.

She had no idea.

“Just makin’ sure this old wolf is what you wan’.”

“I want you inside me. Now. Less talking, more doing.”

Lasting for longer than a few minutes would be hell after his ten-year wait.

Gathering up her hair, he tucked it to the side, exposing the sweet, vulnerable curve of her neck.

“Last chance.”

“Stop warning me to run,” she grumbled.

He could
so
work with that. He pushed her thighs apart.

“Tilt that sweet ass of yours up some.”

She did and he ran a hand down her spine, tracing the darker seam of her ass. When his finger rubbed against the rosy pucker, she stilled.

“Mine,” he said roughly, because he needed it to be true. He pushed through the tight ring of nerves, drinking in her sharp gasp. When she sat, she’d feel the sweet burn and think of him.

“I’m gettin’ in here too.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” she muttered, but she didn’t say
no
. She pushed back, taking his finger deeper, harder. He added a second finger, scissoring them inside her rear channel.
His.

He stroked himself roughly, palm slapping up his dick. Jesus. She undid him. She was gorgeous and he’d done nothing to deserve her. He wanted to hurry up and sink inside her; he wanted to spin out the moment because, once he’d buried himself in her sweet spot, he’d know exactly what he’d walked away from ten years ago.

He’d made her a deal. Seven nights of sin and pleasure with her wolf, and then she walked free. When he looked at her, her fingers twisting his sheets, her body pleading for his, he knew he’d borrowed a kind of trouble he couldn’t handle. She might be able to walk away in a week, but she’d be taking his heart and his soul with her. Without a mate, his kind turned feral, losing themselves in the wolves. He’d never understood that kind of desperation but now…he did.

Fuck, did he ever.

He put his hands on her thighs, opening her up, pressing her down into his mattress. She parted sweetly and he tucked his dick against her wet opening. She met him with a husky moan.

“You ready,
shug
?”

She nodded, little shivers racking her. Yeah. She was good and ready.

He pushed in. And in. No stopping, no holding back.

Taking her, learning her.

Going all the way.

Her body gave sweetly around him, lush, slick tissues clinging to his dick. Her surrender pushed him towards the edge. He lost himself in her, the urge riding him to slam into her, to drive them both over the edge hard and fast. He didn’t want this over, not so soon. Not yet. Desperate for distraction, he leaned forward and nipped her ear.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot.”

Not poetry, just desperate truth. He was on fire. She melted all his defenses, got under his skin.

When he braced his hands on either side of her head, she threaded her fingers through his. He drank in her pants, the way her breath caught when he moved because he wasn’t alone here. She wanted him too and that made the night fucking perfect.

He rocked against her, drove in hard and fast. Kissing her wherever he could reach. No more games, just raw sensation. He pulled a hand away from hers and shoved it beneath her. He wasn’t leaving her behind, not this time.

She gasped. “Now would be good.”

Like he held the keys to her fucking body. Pride and happiness swelled up in him. She trusted him here and now. Trusted him to bring her over that edge, to not leave her wanting. Failing her wasn’t an option.

He pulled out. Thrust back in again. She moaned and then, when he worked her clit, she yelled his name, coming hard and fast.

Yeah. He was so there.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding on, working for her. Coming with her.
Oui.
He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

~*~

“You left me.” The words flew out of her mouth, sleepy and accusatory and so wrong.

He didn’t have to ask what she meant. Like her, he knew. “That night in Vegas was somethin’ special, but it shouldn’t have been for keeps.”