Finding Chrissten: Legacy, Book 5 (14 page)

Hank kissed her like that was his entire goal and one he was bound to accomplish. He licked and sucked and explored. He tilted his head to one side so he could forage deeper.

And his taste. God, he tasted good. Better than a man had a right to. Mint from his toothpaste mingled with the rich aroma of the coffee he’d drank earlier tonight. But overriding every other taste was the pure essence of the man himself. Better than chocolate. She didn’t think she could ever get enough.

Chrissten lost track of time, lost all embarrassment, forgot about the nightmare as Hank kissed her as though she was water and he was a man lost in the desert.

Both of them were breathing hard when he finally pulled back. Her lips tingled and her head rose from the pillow, following him. She didn’t want this moment to end.

Hank kissed the tip of her nose, her forehead and her cheeks.

“I want to touch you. I want to touch you everywhere.”

Chrissten’s entire body clenched, partly in fear and partly in anticipation.

Hank was wreathed in shadows, the play of light highlighting the harsh planes of his face. “I want to take away his touch. Make you forget everything about him.”

“Hank,” she began, not really sure what she was going to say.

“Shh.” He placed one finger over her lips to keep her from speaking. “Let me finish. I know this isn’t easy for you. I don’t expect to make love with you. That’s not going to happen tonight. I give you my word of honor.”

A sense of wonder blossomed inside Chrissten. She knew he meant every word he said, knew enough about him to understand his word was his bond, his honor everything to him.

“Let me touch you, kiss you, taste you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, and we can stop any time you feel uncomfortable. Let me do this for you.”

“Why?” Why would he even want to do this? What was in it for him? He’d end up horny and unsatisfied.

Hank let his finger drift down from her lips until it was under her chin. “Because I’m drawn to you in a way I can’t explain. Because I want to touch you more than I want my next breath. No matter how horny I get, contrary to popular belief, no man has ever died because he didn’t get any. And I’d do anything to help rid you of those dark memories.”

Chrissten simply stared at Hank. Could it really be that simple? She wanted to reach out and take what he offered, but it wasn’t fair to him. She’d be using him and that didn’t sit well with her. It smacked of weakness.

She started to shake her head but, once again, he seemed to anticipate that move and countered it with more words.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. It’s not weak to want to reach out to someone for help. We all need it sometime. It’s the strong person who recognizes when they do need help and is able to ask for it.”

“It’s not fair.” How many times had she uttered those words in her head and aloud? Even she could hear the lack of conviction in them. Was she really considering doing this? The answer was an unequivocal yes.

Hank’s gaze heated, his pale eyes almost glowing in the shadowy room. “It’s more than fair, Chrissten. It’s what I want.” He touched his lips to hers. “Will you give me what I want?”

Put like that, how could she refuse?

Chrissten took a deep breath and nodded.

Hank thought he might come in his pants when Chrissten nodded. It was close, but he managed to stop the explosion by thinking about Brian, about the male who had abused her. If anything was guaranteed to kill his libido it was thoughts of that bastard.

A mated wolf usually couldn’t stand the scent or touch of another. That made the attraction between him and Chrissten even more unusual. Hank knew in his soul he was her true mate and she was his. Maybe it was because they were both half-breeds that they were able to get past the restrictions that ruled mated pairs. Maybe it was because they were true mates that Brian’s mating didn’t seem to affect either of them in quite the same way it would a pure werewolf mated pair.

He didn’t know and didn’t care.

He could smell Brian’s scent on her skin. It permeated her flesh, a never-ending reminder that she belonged to another. It marked her as surely as a brand and would only disappear with Brian’s death.

Most males wouldn’t be able to stand the stench of another male on their female. Werewolves were nothing if not possessive.

But Hank wasn’t most men and Chrissten belonged to him. He knew Brian’s claim to her was only temporary. The moment Hank found him, he would kill him and free Chrissten.

He’d deal with him eventually. But tonight was all about Chrissten, about what she needed from him at this moment. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the light floral scent that clung to Chrissten’s skin and blocked out the deeper, musky tones. The possessive wolf inside him wanted to rub his body over every inch of her skin, letting his scent coat her silky smooth flesh. It wouldn’t get rid of Brian’s smell, but it would help mask it.

Touch was such a basic human thing and so necessary, especially to their kind. Wolves were pack animals. Social. And touch was a way to express how they felt about one another—a hand on a shoulder, a hug, a pat. Between a mated pair touch was even more vital. It helped connect them to one another, to solidify their bond.

Brian had abused his position as mate. Denying Chrissten the most basic comfort. Hurting her when he should have been cherishing her.

His loss was Hank’s gain.

Chrissten’s skin was glistening with perspiration. Worry darkened her beautiful blue eyes and he wanted to tell her not to worry, but saved his breath. She wouldn’t totally relax until Brian and his group were found and dealt with. He didn’t blame her. He was always on alert himself, even more so than usual. Brian would come for her. Hank knew it in his gut.

He brushed back a lock of hair that had escaped from her braid. She turned her head slightly into his touch. That little action made him feel like the king of the world.

His life used to be simple. Basic.

Now it was complicated beyond measure. He was in love with a female who was already mated, a female with complex issues when it came to mating and sex. If he were smart he’d walk away from her.

But it was already too late. Chrissten was in his heart and soul. She belonged to him in a way he couldn’t begin to describe. And he belonged to her.

She was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. He couldn’t resist leaning down and running his tongue over the small injury. Soothing it.

She released a small sigh, her breath a light puff against his face.

He smiled at her, ignoring the pounding in his temples and the pulsing in his groin. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

“Okay.” She tried to relax. He could see the way she took a deep breath and consciously unclenched her hands.

He shook his head. This wasn’t going to work unless he could get her out of her head and more into letting her body simply feel and enjoy the experience.

Talking wasn’t going to help, and delaying was only serving to make her even tenser than she’d been. Not good.

Letting his instincts guide him, Hank reached behind his head, grabbed a handful of fabric and yanked his shirt off. He tossed it aside and swooped down to kiss Chrissten in one motion.

He took it slow, letting their mouths touch, then meld tighter. Her lips were soft and warm. He was very aware of her every movement, every action. She was still wound up tighter than a coiled spring.

He gently ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth and pushed inward. She gave a little gasp but yielded. Tension seeped out of her body as if she’d finally exhaled and let go.

Hank teased her tongue with his, lapped at the inside of her mouth and stroked her bottom lip. She responded to each and every touch. Her breathing was becoming more rapid, a new tension seeping into her bones. This one was good though. Sexual tension brought a heightened awareness with it, their senses growing sharper.

He brought his hand up and carefully covered her left breast. Through the thin fabric of her nightgown, he felt the heavy thud of her heart against the heel of his hand. She clutched at his wrist, not to push him away but to press him closer.

Fuck, yes. This was the reaction he was hoping for. He wanted her to want him.

He rubbed his thumb gently over the distended nipple, drawing a low moan from her. His jeans were way too tight, but he didn’t dare remove them. He’d given Chrissten his word and he would not break it. She was fragile enough at the moment, her trust a delicate and treasured thing. He wouldn’t do anything to destroy it.

He shoved the sheets down to her waist. He wanted to throw the damn things on the floor but it was too soon to do anything of the sort. Patience was the key.

Hank ignored the pounding of his blood through his veins, the howling of his wolf within him, the never-ending ache of his cock. This was all about Chrissten.

The nightgown she wore had four buttons and he slowly undid them one at a time, exposing a thin swath of pale skin. Her flesh was warm and goose bumps rose beneath his fingers.

He glanced up at her face to gauge her reaction to what he was doing. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she sucked air into her lungs. He could tell she was still thinking too hard. Her eyes were scrunched tight and she was nibbling on her bottom lip once again.

Hurriedly, he spread the fabric wide, exposing two perfect mounds. Her breasts weren’t overly big or small. They were full and tantalizing, perfect for her height.

Hank cupped one breast and rubbed his thumb around the swollen areola. Chrissten whimpered and the small sound shot straight to his balls. Breathing became next to impossible as he struggled to keep from coming. If he was this aroused by a sound what would it be like if she actually touched him.

Bad thought. His cock jerked as if it approved of that idea. Every muscle in his body tensed, coiled, ready for action. He wanted her hands on his shoulders, his chest, his cock, wherever he could get them. His wolf paced restlessly inside him, urging him to get on with things.

Every cell in his body cried out for Chrissten. He took a deep breath and turned his laser focus on her. He leaned down and ran his tongue over the tight nub he’d aroused with his touch.

Chrissten moaned and her hands came up to clutch his shoulders. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, the sting sweet. This was what he wanted, Chrissten lost to her own sensual desires. He wanted to feed them, to fan the sensual flames until she came. He wanted to replace her bad memories with ones of pleasure, of him.

He closed his lips over the hard nub and gently suckled. She speared her fingers through his hair and clutched his scalp, tugging him closer.

He was in heaven as he licked and sucked, petted and touched. Her legs scissored against the sheets, restricted by the gown she was wearing. He wanted to remove the garment but knew it was too soon for that.

“Hank.” His name was no more than a breath, a sigh, but it pierced his heart. To hear his name on her lips when she was in the throes of sensual desire sent his libido soaring to an entirely new level.

He prayed no one would decide to look in on Chrissten. He’d probably kill whoever came through the door and interrupted them. She was getting closer to losing control. All she needed was a little push.

A warm musky scent filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, taking it into his lungs. It was sweet and inviting. Chrissten was aroused.

He had to find out for sure, had to feel the wetness against his fingers.

While he continued to pleasure one breast and then the other, he shoved the sheet down until it hit her knees. The hem of her nightgown was up around her thighs and he slid his hand beneath it and started an upward journey.

She stiffened briefly and he paused, waiting for her to say yes or no. He prayed she wouldn’t stop him. Not now. Not yet.

He wanted to let out a whoop of joy when her thighs relaxed and parted slightly. Goddamn, she was brave. The courage it took for her to let him touch her this intimately after everything she’d been through humbled him.

He raised his head from her breast to look at her. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to.” He had to be clear on that point, wanted to reinforce the fact that she was in charge.

“Not yet.”

She was so fucking beautiful lying here with her gown opened to expose her breasts and rucked up around her thighs. Her skin glistened in the dim light. Her lips were moist from his kisses.

Even the sound of her limbs moving against the sheets was arousing to him. The light slithering sound made his balls ache.

Hank knew it would be a hell of a long night. No way would he be able to relieve the pressure of his erection until someone replaced him on guard duty in the morning. After that, he’d probably spend at least an hour in a cold shower, giving himself a hand job or three. The way he felt right now it would take at least that many orgasms to sate him.

Her hips arched slightly and Hank grazed the inside of her thigh. Her skin was so soft. He could easily spend hours simply touching her, stroking her. But he didn’t have the luxury of time. Any moment she could change her mind. Or someone might come to check on her.