Scout: Reckless Desires (Norseton Wolves Book 7) (10 page)

“Where the hell am I going, Petra? I live here.
Right
here in this community. I’ve got a job here. My family is here. I’m psychically knitted into the clan here and only an act of the gods would compel me to leave again. If anyone runs, it’s going to be you.”

“Funny, that’s what my father said two weeks before he bounced. He didn’t even go all that far. From one end of the Osage reservation to the other, but that was far enough. He didn’t want to be with a wolf, either.”

“Excuse me?” Evidently incredulous, Paul scoffed. “Before last year, I’d never met a wolf in person, so you’re going to have to pardon me if I’m ignorant about how I should treat one. I tried treating you like a lady, but that didn’t work, either.”

“Go fu—”

He likely knew exactly what she was going to tell him to do with himself, but he didn’t give her a chance to get the words out.

Somehow, she ended up on her back with her arms pinned over her head and an angry Viking straddling her hips.

“Like I said,” he snarled. “I tried. I’m starting to think you don’t
want
me to treat you with dignity. If you did, you wouldn’t keep poking and goading me.”

“You wouldn’t know dignity if it bit you in the ass.”

“See. There goes the mouth again. You can’t help yourself, can you?” He gave her wrists a little shake. “You just have to keep running it. Have to have an answer for everything, even when being quiet is perfectly acceptable. I’d
prefer
the quiet.”

He lowered his body onto hers, still clamping her wrists, and holding his lips barely an inch from her ear.

But he didn’t need to talk because he was a fucking telepath. Apparently, he’d just needed a bit of skin contact, because he put his lips against her ear and whispered through her mind, “
Be quiet sometimes, Petra. You don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to listen to me talk, either. Silence is fine. I’m begging you.
”

He skated his lips along her jaw to her chin, then up to the mouth she’d parted to spew some objection she couldn’t even remember—something that probably hadn’t been important but that she’d had to say anyway.

“
We could learn a lot about each other in silence,
” he said.

She wondered if she could respond in that way, or even if she
should
. She didn’t have anything productive to add to the conversation, but she was used to being the one controlling the airwaves. Even Arnold tended to let her do all the talking. They each had their roles. Petra was the one who always spoke up, and Arnold was the one who assessed risks.

And where is that doofus right now to tell me about this risk?

Paul danced the fingers of his free hand along her hairline, gently skimming her cheek and the back of her neck, down to her shoulder. He worked his fingers lightly down the side of her ribs, both tickling and arousing, and naturally—she squirmed beneath him.

And she kept her mouth shut.

She pinned her lips together and tried to keep her brain from accidentally triggering that psychic thing that he was so good at. She cleared her mind and thought of nothing but his touch. About how gentle, but persistent it was. About how she knew he was going to get what he wanted, and how she wasn’t going to object, because there was no good reason to.

She was too curious—too
eager
for him to touch her, finally. He needed to fulfill the promise of the bite.

“
Your skin is so soft,
” he said in that mental whisper. “
How dare you be so soft?
”

She didn’t respond because she didn’t have a good answer, and she wasn’t going to swoop in and monopolize the conversation. Wasn’t going to derail things. Fewer words seemed the better plan.

“
I think you’re soft all over, but I can’t remember for sure. Take this off.
”

She didn’t know what “this” was until she looked down to see him holding his hand over her shirt buttons.

Oh.

She nodded, and he gave her room to sit up, unclamping her wrists only to move his hands to the bottom of his own shirt.

As she clumsily worked her uncooperative fingers down her buttons, she watched him strip naked. Efficient. Shameless.

Gorgeous
.

Three buttons. She’d unfastened three buttons, and there he was climbing back on the bed perfectly nude, save for his glasses, which he nudged up his nose.

He didn’t speak his impatience, but he didn’t have to. She could sense it when his skin grazed against her chest—as he took over undressing her. She could read some of the suppressed thoughts bobbing around in that mysterious head of his.

“
Faster, woman.
”

She couldn’t go any faster. He’d done the right thing by taking over the job from her.

“
Going to buy you clothes,”
he thought at her as he tossed her flannel shirt onto the floor.
“Clothes that aren’t hand-me-downs and that are designed for a woman’s shape.
”

He tugged at her sagging waistband, as if she wouldn’t have been able to discern what he wanted on her own.

The jeans had once been Arnold’s. He’d last worn them when he was fourteen. They were pretty threadbare, but she never gave up on an article of clothing until it’d disintegrated to the point of no return. She and the Viking likely disagreed about whether or not they’d reached that point.

“
These.
” He slipped his fingers down the inside front of her jeans and into her panties, and she wondered if he were going to trigger another one of those seizure things.

She couldn’t breathe with his fingers being there, idling over her clit when she was already so close to combustion.

“
Off
,” he commanded.

Gulping, she clawed at the fastener of the jeans and managed to get the fly down. He helped her kneel up, and then watched her wriggle the pants down her thighs.

He laid her on her back and took over before she could do much more.

Impatient
.

But so was she. She needed him and couldn’t have him until her clothes were off.

He tossed her jeans in the general direction of her shirt and then wriggled her panties past her hips, his intense gaze fixed on her.
Daring
her.

She wouldn’t take the dare. She was going to lie very still and let the scenario play out. Her limited experience with sexual things would only be an obstacle if she were allowed to take point.

For once, she’d keep her mouth shut and wait.

She lay there on the new bed that somehow belonged to her in the new house that had been given to her and her brother and, for the first time in ten years, felt like something was
actually
going to go right.

Even if slowly.

Paul settled between her parted legs, pressing his palms up the insides of her knees. He pushed her legs farther apart and finally looked away from her face to fix his attention much lower.

Gods.

She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see him look—didn’t want to guess what he was thinking when he looked at her like that.

Warm breath tickled her inner thighs and higher. The mattress shifted beneath her and some firm thing pushed against her leg. She didn’t open her eyes to see her slide her hands down to feel. She curled her fingertips into the sheets so she didn’t touch anything—
ruin
anything.

Her legs were lifted, propped up.

More warm breath, but closer to her sex, and then away.

His tongue seared in the crease between her abdomen and thigh, and her toes curled as he licked ever closer to her juncture.

But he ignored that completely and licked the opposite crease. Differently, though. He added kisses and teasing bites to his improvisation, and she changed the pitch of the wanton hum building up in her throat.

Still, she wouldn’t open her eyes.

She could feel his breath tickling her thighs and his hands pressing against her crotch.

She didn’t want to see—didn’t want to give away how anxious she was about getting things wrong.

He parted her, and her eyes opened then. A reflex, just in time to see his tongue circle around her nub and his lips stretched into a grin with his amusement.

She must have looked terrified. Her eyes certainly felt round enough, and she had her mouth wide open, like she was trying to catch flies.

She reached down and snatched his glasses off his face.

“
I can still see what I’m doing, Petra.
”

“
But I…”
Can he even hear me?
“I feel better.
”

“
Would you feel better if I turned the lights off?
”

He
could
hear her. His ability frightened and exhilarated her at the same time.

“
Yes,
” she thought at him.

“
Too bad. Not gonna fumble clumsily in the dark when I can service you so much better in the light.
”

“
Service me?
”

“
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m doing my best to satisfy you, but you have to let me.
”

“
Are you telling me again to stop talking?
”

He didn’t answer, except to delve his tongue back between her legs and to brazenly
service
every crevice of her.

All she could do was try not to clench and give away how novel the sensation was for her—his tongue flicking rapidly against her clit and sparking quakes in her body. Not warnings of an impending seizure, just her nerve endings being too damned happy and her muscles not knowing what to do except to contract and relax, over and over.

He slipped a finger into her, and she held her breath as he added another, then a third, and her breathlessness made what he was doing that much worse.

Or perhaps
better.

The fullness ebbed and flowed as he slid his fingers in and out of her, but she
had
to breathe when his mouth closed around her clit because she damn near launched off the bed.

He pressed his free hand to her belly, obviously thinking she was going to float away or something. “
Not done with you.
”

His tongue tapped out a rapid beat against her clit, matching the tempo of whatever he was doing with his middle finger inside her pussy, and her body didn’t know how to respond except for her to giggle.

She giggled and wheezed while she gripped his hair and tried not to squirm away from him. If she moved away, she wouldn’t come, and that’d be a new experience for her—brought about by her mate’s hands.

And tongue.

“That
fucking
tongue,” she muttered as she threw her head back and tried not to yank all those luscious locks out of his scalp.

“
I think you’ll like other parts of me just as much.
”

“
Sure. Uh-huh.
”

She certainly couldn’t imagine what those were, not with his tongue turning her brain to mush via her private parts.

“
So soft.
”

The man was supremely coordinated. He meandered his hand up her chest and palmed one of her breasts without missing a beat. He kneaded it, strummed the nipple with a thumb, and she couldn’t take any more.

The way she saw things, she had two choices. She could suffocate him between her thighs, or she could let the pleasure engulf her and allow the orgasm to play out however it needed to.

She didn’t want to suffocate him. Her mate was far too handsome to kill, so she picked Option B—the shame.

Oh well
.

She needn’t have been worried, because apparently she wasn’t a shrieker or a moaner. She was a panter, and a pull-his-hair-until-he-stops-lickinger.

But he wouldn’t stop licking. Not until he’d lapped up all her honey, apparently, and not until he was satisfied that her nipple couldn’t possibly get any more turgid.

“Fuckin’
hell
, dude.” She lay boneless, staring at the ceiling, and giggling as he slipped his fingers out of her.

He didn’t say anything. She
worried
that he didn’t say anything, and wondered if she had been talking too much again.

She risked a look down her body and found him up on his knees with the hand that had been stimulating her wrapped around his big cock, pumping up and down.

And he was looking right at her. No timidity in her Viking’s gaze, only a dare for her to look away.

But she couldn’t.

She was mesmerized by his strong grip pushing
her
lubrication up and down his shaft and how the dark head leaked his own arousal.

Had he been any other man, she might have looked away, but his body was hers to enjoy as much as hers was for him. He didn’t look like the wolves she’d grown up around, and perhaps that was a good thing. No bad memories.

New. Fresh.

Hers.

“Be still,” he whispered in his deep rasp.

She hadn’t thought she’d moved, but she concentrated on keeping her body very straight and stiff all the same.

His seed arced onto her belly in long, ropy spurts, and she lay stunned with her mouth open.

Half scandalized. Half turned on.

He kept stroking, teeth clenched and belly muscles twitching as he finished himself off.

And she kept still longer as he slowly eased off the bed and walked to the attached bathroom.

He returned a moment later with a warm cloth that he swished tenderly over her belly, and then disappeared into the bathroom again.

She tried to be still because she hadn’t been told to do otherwise, but he was gone for so long.

Minutes, maybe. She couldn’t tell. She could often count time by the beats of her heart, but hers was contracting too quickly, trying to slow down. But every time she thought about what they’d just done, it sped up again.

He must have been gone a
very
long time because by the time he returned, she was halfway asleep and so used to him being gone that the sound of the light switch being hit made her jerk.

He climbed into bed behind her and pulled her against his body, pressing his softened cock against her ass, and tugging the covers up over the two of them.

His breathing filled her ears.