He didn’t say anything. Should she repeat herself or remain silent? Leaving off his exploration of her midsection, he again took control of her waist and positioned her so one armrest supported the back of her head. The other provided a resting place for her buttocks. The only way she could keep her back from sagging was by bracing her elbows on the seat. Her body became limp, and she studied Matt through half-open lids.
His stance as he stood over her reminded her of a predator studying a recent kill. He widened his stance. Thrusting up from his dark nest of pubic hair, his cock served as the ultimate challenge and promise. Forget the consequences. She longed to cup her hands around him and draw him to her sex.
Ah, God, her sex!
Squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them, she stared like the idiot she’d become at Matt’s incredible body as he moved between her legs with his hands down where she couldn’t see them. Could only feel them.
Matt’s fingers now lay over her hip bones with the heels of his hands and thumbs pressing down on her stretched-tight belly. She couldn’t move. Freedom was a gift given to someone else.
“I smell you,” he muttered. “The strength of your need.”
Of course he could. No way could she hold back the fluids leaking from her. Wet heat leaked over her rear opening and from there to where? Probably into the recliner fabric.
Done in. Matt’s possession.
“You’re ready to mate.”
Don’t say anything. Refuse to get down to his level.
“Can I hold back?” he continued. “Stop myself from jamming my cock into you?”
“Why does that matter?” She stared at the ceiling so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.
By way of answer, he handed her a low growl. She jumped when his thumbs touched her labia, then added a moan when he touched her again. Need slithered over her. The next time he stroked her outer sex, helplessness engulfed her. No way could she get out of this damnable position.
Matt’s hands pressed against the joint between hip and leg, slid up her to cover her hip bones, raced down her thighs only to glide upward again. The sides of his thumbs laid tracks along her inner legs. He stopped, damn him, an inch shy of her pussy.
If not for his rough, rapid breathing, she’d believe his self-control knew no bounds.
On the move once more, finger pads probing at her belly, ribs, navel. Sanity slipped from her control and left her to thrash her head about. The keening sounds were coming from her, but how could that be when she’d never made such noises before? Never felt so lost.
“Matt, please, I can’t—”
He silenced her by lowering his head and exhaling a hot breath over her drenched labia. Spent air licked at her opening. Gone, she struggled to separate her legs even more. She wouldn’t say another word, refused to beg.
Beg for what?
The question without answer made her slow to acknowledge the strain in her shoulders and arms. Then, desperate for relief, she lowered herself a few inches. Unfortunately, that increased the pressure on the back of her neck.
No begging!
“I need this.” Matt’s hands crept over her body, the journey slow and deep, never touching her pussy. “You under me.”
Under his control, he meant. Helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. At the moment he was closing in on her knees, going at it a quarter inch at a time while her sex dripped. Now she could smell herself, the scent urgent and harsh.
Sensation pulled her deep inside her lightning-touched body, and for several seconds—or was it minutes?—she knew nothing. Then it came to her that although Matt’s long, broad hands still blanketed her thighs, she could no longer see him. Alarmed, she forced her head off the armrest. There he was, damn him! Kneeling between her legs. His breath a constant torture to her pussy.
Do you want me dead?
Driven by an emotion she couldn’t give a name to, she struggled to lift herself off the recliner. Grunting, Matt pressed against her inner thighs, and although she resisted, in the end she had no choice but to give in. One of her legs now butted up against the chair back while the other hung over the end of the seat. He had her. In every way a powerful male could control a female.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” she demanded.
“Priming you. Taking you to where need takes over.”
A woman not crazy-wild to have her sex invaded might be able to make sense of what he’d said. She, however, didn’t care.
The stranger that was Matt intended to drink of her body fluids. She needed to accept and prepare. Climb on top of the insanity wrapping itself around her and hold on. Hold on.
Instead of using his tongue or lips, however, he came at her with his thumbs. Coated with her juices, they slipped like butter over her pussy. Maybe she should have fought. Protested at least. But when he drew her sex lips apart, she fell into a place framed by jumping nerves.
Except for her pussy, her body no longer existed. Gone was awareness of her uncomfortable and helpless position. Her arms trembled, yet the burning muscles became part of a larger whole, a woman drifting in willing, helpless anticipation.
Matt’s thumbs, better suited for gripping reins or branding irons, reached her opening. They waited, barely touching as if willing to give her time to comprehend. Instead of gratitude, however, she fought down an urgent scream. Damn it, she needed to be penetrated!
Don’t tell him. Let it happen. Wait until he’s ready and then . . . and then . . .
A finger—it didn’t matter which one—slipped into her. For a moment, the feeling of fullness calmed her. Then a second finger joined the first, pushing her channel apart. Moaning in need, she nevertheless struggled to free herself.
“Why, Cat? You know you want this.”
Yes, she did. Yes, she needed. But it was so much, her pussy no longer belonging to her. Her entire body gone.
Matt, who knew her so well, the physical part at least, let his fingers rest. Even so, she couldn’t stop her inner muscles from clamping down around him. Damn but she loved the sensation! Loved Matt skewering her.
As her sex channel clenched repeatedly, an intense burning sped through her and threatened to come out the top of her head. Maybe this was some weird kind of climax, the best her short-circuiting body was capable of.
Matt flexed and straightened his fingers. Although dizzy, she tried to convince herself she was strong enough to stay on top of everything he threw at her.
Then his thumb touched her clit.
Sobbing, she again fought to lift herself off the recliner. Gasped, screamed maybe. Cursed him while her muscles held his fingers inside her. Still pressing, he rolled her clit about. Some alien sensation powered into her. Sounds escaped. Her body whipped about, and the back of her head against the armrest burned. Her arms caught fire.
“Matt.”
Help me.
Early in their relationship, she’d told him her clit was super-sensitive. Damn her for being so honest! And damn him for trapping her rapid-firing nub between thumb and forefinger. Lost in the wild current that was her climax, she fought both him and herself with all her pitiful strength.
“Stop it, stop it!” The words scraped her throat.
Silent, Matt hauled her off the recliner and onto the carpet, stopping her release. The fibers scraped the back of her shoulders, buttocks, and legs. Sunlight had invaded her living room, and the brightness stood in sharp contrast to the darkness surrounding this man.
Straddling her, Matt folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her. His erection dominated. Once again she likened him to a predator after a successful hunt. Fear slithered through her, yet she’d never felt more alive. More needful.
When he opened his mouth, she prayed for the courage to handle whatever he said. Instead of speaking, however, his lips became a harsh line, and his eyes narrowed.
Questions bunched inside her, but anything she said would reveal too much. Expose her in ways even nudity couldn’t.
She couldn’t keep her gaze from sliding from his face to his chest. Going lower, she clenched her fists in preparation. There. A fully aroused man’s cock. Matt’s cock. Wanting one thing.
Her.
Dropping to his knees, he drew her legs apart. Just like that, her muscles abandoned her. Instead of entering into the space he’d created, he hauled her toward him, deeply bending her knees as he did. As he ran his hands under her buttocks and lifted them off the carpet, she ordered herself to look into his eyes. A single glance, however, and will deserted her.
He positioned her so her ass rested on his thighs with her head low and blood sliding into it. Unable to concentrate on what he had in mind—like she didn’t know—she flung a heavy arm over her eyes. Darkness cradled her.
Just like that, she stepped into a bottomless pool overflowing with hot, swirling water. Somewhere out there, the world waited. Reality hadn’t disappeared; it just didn’t matter anymore.
A touch of cock against clit. Light and yet possessive sliding over her labia. Promise waiting at the entrance to her sex. Jangled and loose at the same time, she drew in as much air as her lungs could handle. In her mind’s eye, she saw her juices flow out and over his cock’s tip.
“Mine.” The word expanded to fill the room. “You’re mine.”
Too gone to respond, she tried to lift her left arm off the carpet. Failing despite the Herculean effort, she surrendered to a world of nothing and everything.
Familiar and unknown pressure again centered her attention on her opening. When he entered her, a chuckle escaped her, but she stopped it in midsound so she could concentrate on sensation. Had he been this thick before, this heated? The invasion continued, pulling her channel apart and seeming to fill her throat, heart, mind.
By turn, her pussy became weak and then strong, simple vessel accepting whatever happened to it followed by furious need. During those needful times, her sex clamped onto his, and she struggled to suck him deep into her. Sweat slickened her.
A chain of sharp, short masculine grunts made her wonder if he was trying to keep his vulnerability from her, but her body, which knew his so well, had found the truth. Each harsh thrust came from a man lost.
Feeding off him, she dove into release. Her world swirled, started to tip only to straighten and then careen in another direction. Giddy, she dug her heels into the carpet. This time when he powered into her, she was ready. They slammed together. Reality splintered and she imagined wild animals united by lust. Her nostrils filled with a musky scent.
“Damn you, Cat! Fucking damn you!”
16
S
till kneeling, Matt extended his arms behind him and braced his body on them. Except for the feminine form curled on her side near his feet, the world lacked definition. Looking as spent as he felt, the woman planted an elbow on the carpet and half sat up. The way her gaze kept slipping off him made him wonder if she was drugged.
Who was she?
Bit by bit, his muscles quieted. Instead of the weary selfsatisfaction that marked his first minutes after a climax, he was becoming more and more alert. His sense of smell was keen, and he could hear the horses moving about in the nearby corral. A single blink put an end to the room’s hazy quality.
“Are you going to say anything?” she asked.
Cat’s voice. Yes, he knew that.
“Like what?”
Her nostrils flared. “Like apologizing for not first making sure I was on board with what just happened.”
What the hell was she talking about? She’d wanted sex as much as he had. Hadn’t she?
His muscles flexed and charged, strengthening with every beat of his powerful heart. A small herd of wild mustangs called his acreage home, and although he cursed them for eating what the cattle needed, he’d never once entertained the idea of trying to get rid of them. How could he when watching the compact creatures run reminded him of the meaning of the word
freedom?
He’d watched stallions fight over mares in heat and had twice studied mating mustangs.
Yes. Mating. A stallion proclaiming dominance over a mare trapped by nature’s heat flowing through her.
Unexpected dizziness brought him back to his body. He had no idea how he’d gotten to his feet or why he’d chosen a widelegged stance. An insistent whisper from his cock sent his hand to cradle it.
“No way.” Cat stood and began backing away from him. “Absolutely no way you can get an erection so soon after . . .”
She was right, and yet the longer he held his cock, the heavier it became. His balls ached. When he was fully erect with precum dotting the tip, he tore his attention off himself. Cat had backpedaled so she now stood at the opposite side of the room. True to her name, she assumed a half crouch with her gaze locked on him and her arms lifted and hands fisted.
“Get dressed, Matt. Pull your boots back on and get out of here.”
Drying moisture painted the insides of her thighs, and her nipples were hard. Throwing her head back, she scraped her palms over her breasts. “Don’t read anything into this. I’m still riding the climax you backed me into.”
Much as he wanted to again insist she’d wanted sex as much as he had, he couldn’t find the words. Truth was, he didn’t trust himself to put a coherent sentence together. His muscles felt too big for his skin, his jaw powerful enough to crush bone. Half expecting to see paws instead of hands, he tore his attention from Cat and looked down. Both confused and reassured by the sight of fingers and palms, he stroked his erection. Fire licked at his groin and then banked down a little. He could stay on top of what he was feeling. Maybe.
“Did you hear me?” she demanded. “I want you out of here.”
Why?
he asked with his eyes, because his throat had locked down.
Her long blink said she’d heard the silent question. “You’re freaking me—Hell, no you aren’t! I mean it, Matt. Either you walk out of here in the next thirty seconds or I’ll make you.”
How?
“If necessary, I’ll call the sheriff, tell your friend Bob Wilton that you’ve gone off the deep end.”
He wasn’t near any end; he simply was. Simply existed.
Surrendering to the powerful sensations arcing through him, he started toward her. With every step, he became more in awe of his thigh and calf muscles. They were capable of running endlessly, long loping miles broken by short, great bursts of speed. He
saw
himself launch his naked and rangy body at an unsuspecting prey, maybe a deer. Expertly sidestepping a terrified kick, he closed his fangs around—
Fangs?
Labored breathing pulled Matt back into Cat’s living room. She had one hand to her throat while the other hovered over her pubic area. Her meaningless words swirled around him. He needed to listen, to understand, to acknowledge her emotion.
But how could he when something was descending on him? Enveloped by what was both fierce and savage, he surrendered to the compulsion to look out her front window.
A wolf stood near Cat’s roses, looking in at him with bared fangs and knowing eyes.
From where she crouched with her back pressed against a wall and escape a million miles away, Cat tried to see what had captured Matt’s attention. His stance reminded her of the barn cat as it focused on a hapless mouse. The nameless and feral cat usually stayed out of her way and would run if it spotted her coming, but all bets were off when it was in hunting mode. Then nothing but killing mattered.
“What is it?” Did she really expect an answer. “What do you see?”
“Wolf.”
“No!” Afraid for her horses, she left the wall’s safety.
Careful to keep as much distance as possible from Matt, she inched toward the window. Her familiar front yard with its flowers and gravel circular driveway awaited her. The only lifeform she could see consisted of a spider intent on creating a web in the window’s upper-right corner.
“I don’t see anything,” she told the man who invaded her living room and, earlier, her body.
If her statement surprised him, he gave no indication. “He’s waiting for me.”
Chilled, she again looked out. Then, not knowing what in the hell was happening, she faced Matt full-on. He’d changed from the man who’d scratched her itches. The form might be familiar, but he was different inside, less human.
“What does he want from you?”
“My soul.”
Keeping her legs from collapsing took her full attention, and by the time she trusted herself to keep on standing, he’d started toward her. Despite her determination to face whatever he threw at her, she placed one leg and then the other behind her. He kept coming. On the brink of panicking, she realized he wasn’t interested in her after all. Instead, he was heading for the window. His cock remained swollen, yet he didn’t seem aware of its condition.
“Tell me what you see?” she asked when she was looking at his back.
“He’s real and yet he isn’t. His eyes . . .”
Matt, what’s happening?
“What about them?”
“So black. Like midnight.”
How many shocks could her system take? she wondered as she realized he was talking about the massive predator she’d taken pictures of. Why couldn’t she see it now? “Ghost Wolf,” she whispered.
“He wants me.”
“No! He doesn’t. Matt, I don’t see anything. You’re imagining—Matt, look at me!”
Instead of doing as she commanded, he remained at the window with his hands pressed against the glass. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the full impact of his nudity. Neither could she make sense of what he’d just said.
Could she?
Matt needed her. He’d had a breakdown of some kind, a sudden and total disconnect from logic. He wasn’t crazy. No one lost their mind that quickly.
Praying she could bring him back, she swallowed down her fear and reached for him. Her first attempt failed for lack of courage on her part, but damn it, she was only going to touch his shoulder. How hard could that be? Feeling removed from what she was doing, she watched as her fingers made contact with his shoulder blade. Power pulsed through him and into her.
Alarmed, she fought the impulse to pull back her hand. He hadn’t responded to her nails on his flesh, which meant she needed to do more to get through to him.
Not breathing, she spread her fingers over the top of his shoulder. Another wave of hot strength and energy shocked her. Effortless and silent, he spun toward her. His eyes were like ice, frozen. Lost and frightened, she flattened her hands over her breasts.
“Mine.” His voice lacked animation. “You belong to me. Just as I belong to him.”
“No. Matt, you’re wrong. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve never been more right.” Only his mouth moved.
She couldn’t talk him through whatever had happened to him after all, not today and not this way.
“This is my home,” she reminded both of them. “Only I have a right to be here, and right now I want you out of it.” She jerked her head at his discarded clothes.
“He’s waiting for me,” Matt said tonelessly. “He’s weary of being alone.”
He
had to refer to Ghost Wolf. Snippets of things she should say occurred to her, but she rejected them because she sensed he wouldn’t listen anyway. Maybe he was incapable of processing anything.
Except what Ghost Wolf had told him.
“He doesn’t know you.” No way would she acknowledge the insanity of what she’d just said. “Certainly he hasn’t been talking to you.”
“Not with words, but that doesn’t matter.”
Before she could ask for an explanation, if she’d been going to, Matt pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. His expression changed to something between exhaustion and impatience. Much as she longed to massage away his weariness, she didn’t dare touch him.
The two of them were standing naked in the middle of a simple living room with the sun pushing the temperature to the limits of comfort. For the first time since early childhood, she was comfortable nude.
No, not comfortable. Truth was, whether she wore anything or not didn’t matter right now.
“Matt, you have responsibilities back at your place; I know you do. What’s on your agenda today?”
His nostrils flared and he pulled back his lips to reveal strong, white teeth. Caught off balance, she looked down. His cock continued to dominate his presence.
“Fine.” Hating her small and wary tone, she tried for strength. “Maybe you don’t give a damn what you do today, but I don’t have the same luxury.” Still not taking her attention off him, she took the first step toward her clothes. “I have horses to feed and—”
Matt leaped. One instant he looked dead on his feet. The next he became an imposing blur. Instinct driving her, she dodged to the side. If it had been anyone else, she might have been able to escape his grasp. Turning with a predator’s grace, he snaked his arms around her and hauled her against his chest.
With her arms anchored against her sides, she could barely struggle. Still she fought the larger, stronger man as she’d never fought anything in her life. The instinct for survival didn’t drive her. Instead she vowed to do everything she could to get through to him.
“You don’t want to be doing this. Matt, you know you don’t!”
“Be quiet!”
Lifting her off her feet, he started to carry her over to the couch. She rammed her knee between his legs. He grunted but didn’t release her.
“Don’t do this! Don’t do this!”
No matter how wildly she tossed herself about, Matt easily hauled her to the couch. Making it appear effortless, he hoisted her higher and threw her backward onto the cushions.
Her brains rattling, she blinked repeatedly to get him to come back into focus. For a moment she saw something that wasn’t quite human, but that had to be shock, not reality.
Instead of holding her in place as she was afraid he’d do, Matt again folded his arms across his chest. She drew a crazy comparison between his stance and that of a playground bully after bloodying a smaller student’s nose.
“Fine.” She ground out the word. “You’re bigger and stronger. What have you proven?”
Much as she hoped for a reaction from him, his disconnected expression didn’t surprise her. Obviously he believed he was in control, she told herself. He could do what he wanted when he wanted.
“There’s a word for what you have in mind. A pretty ugly one. Do you want to say it or should I?”
Nothing, not even a blink.
“Go on! Get it the hell over with. You want a place to shove your pecker—go ahead and do it. But it’ll be the end of us, Matt. Think about that. Everything we had going destroyed because you’re horny, or whatever’s wrong with you.”
He slowly lowered his arms until they hung at his sides. Studying him, she both loved and hated him. Was afraid for him and wished she’d never met him.
“Watch me,” she said. If he asked where her calm and courage came from, she wouldn’t be able to say. “Pay attention because I need you to understand what it means.”
Even though his gaze held hers, she couldn’t be sure how much he was processing when she ran a forefinger between her labial lips. Determined not to let it shake, she held up her hand. “Do you get it? There’s just the tiniest bit of moisture there. I’m not ready for sex. I don’t want it this way.”