“Now,” she cried out.“Oh, yes.Now.”
A slight shudder wracked her body.Her sex closed around him—squeeze, squeeze, squeeze—and, as a raw, keening noise tore from her lips, he finally came, powerful eruptions of come that left him gasping and holding on to her, never wanting it to end, never wanting to let her go.
Never.
Declan’s heart beat gently against her cheek, a steady, slow rhythm that had returned almost immediately after their twin climaxes.Eyes closed, Regan lay beside him, their legs entwined, her head resting on his chest.The fact his body seemed to recover so quickly from not only the terrible wound in his side, but the most mind-blowing sex she’d imagined, niggled at her.It was easy to forget what he was, until an animalistic growl rumbled in his throat, or a wild howl filled the air, or claws not nails pressed to her skin.And then it crashed over her again—a frightening surreal realization she was falling for a man notreallya man but a creature she’d always believed fictitious.
She pulled in a silent breath, wishing herownheart would ease its rapid beat as quickly as Declan’s had.But then, she was just a normal human, wasn’t she?It would take quite some time for her body to recover from what they’d shared, no matter how fit she was.Sliding her palm over his stomach, she traced the twisted line of scar tissue along its path.He truly was a mystery.Yes, he’d shared so much with her.Yes, her heart wept whenever she let her mind turn to the horrific tale of his sister.Yes, she knew he was from Dublin, was once a reporter.But how could a simple human such as herself ever truly understand a being such as he?Even with all her animal training?
She trailed her nails up to his chest, drawing distracted circles on the hard planes.
“Hmmmm, that’s nice.”Declan’s murmur tickled the top of her head and he smoothed his own palm up and down her back, following the curve of her hip until his hand rested on the dip of waist.“Have I told you you have the most amazing hands I know?”
The proclamation made Regan’s lips curl into a soft smile.“No.”
He chuckled, low and sleepy.Well, you do.
Regan opened her eyes, staring sightlessly at the enormous oil painting of a reclining nude on the far wall.Her heartbeat quickened.Again.It had happened again.Declan’s words—or his thoughts—sounding directly in her mind, just as they had on the street when McCoy attacked them.On the street it had been a screamed order to flee, now it was a languid declaration of admiration, but still…
He’s in your head.In your head as well as your heart.
Declan stirred underneath her, muscles lax and fluid.“Did you say something?”he asked, rapidly descending sleep slurring his words.
Regan shook her head against his chest.“No.”She forced her muscles to mirror his.“Sleep.You need it.”
A drowsy, almost inaudible “yes, ma’am” followed and soon, within one beat of his heart, Declan’s body relaxed.
She lay there for a while, listening to his heart, his ever-so-soft snoring.Conflict and confusion churned through her stomach and up into her chest, not quite chilling the warmth of their love making but making her skin prickle all the same.With infinite care, she disengaged herself from his embrace and placed the hand once cupping her waist on to his flat stomach.A snorting intake of breath made her freeze, but all he did was wriggle deeper into the cushions of the chaise and throw his other arm up over his head, the perfect picture of complete slumber.
She stood beside him for a while, watching him sleep.He was gorgeous.Not metro-sexual gorgeous, not Hollywood gorgeous.Just gorgeous.Edgy, rugged and brooding.Her pussy constricted with desire and the urge to drop to her knees and press her body to his again was so powerful she almost did.Her heart clenched, wanting it as much as her sex did.Maybe more.
Shaking her head, she turned and padded across the ballroom floor on silent, bare feet.She needed to think.She needed to clear her head of Declan’s voice, of the memory of his taste, his touch.Falling in lust with a werewolf was one thing, falling in love with them was a…
She froze, barely a step into the foyer.In love?
Her heart leapt up into her throat and she swallowed it down in a painful gulp.Fuck.How could she be falling in love with Declan when what he was still scared the crap out of her?
Her pussy fluttered.Her palms grew sweaty, her skin clammy.
Running up the massive central staircase, she headed in the direction she hoped would be a bathroom, pulse hammering in her temples and throat.She needed a clear head, a composed state of mind.She needed a shower.A cold one.A very cold one.
And afterward, she needed to see a psychiatrist.
Falling in love with an Irish werewolf?She’d definitely lost the plot.
Declan listened to her go.The faint vibrations of her feet on the staircase pounded through the wooden floorboards up into the chaise, like a nail driving into his being.He didn’t move.The pain in his side engulfed him, made him grit his teeth and curse Epoc a million times over, but he lay still, eyes closed, breath even, throwing in the odd soft snore here and there.
He could guess what was going on in Regan’s head.And he knew she needed a moment alone.
A sigh welled up in his chest and he released it slowly.Christ, what would she do when he told her his next move?
Kill him?
He suppressed the dry snort before it left his nose.No, she wouldn’t kill him, but she wasn’t going to be happy either.In fact, she’d probably put up a fight, a pretty good fight, knowing her.He couldn’t imagine her letting him lock her up, no matter how persuasive he was.Still…
The faint sound of running water trickled into his consciousness and a small smile pulled at Declan’s relaxed lips.She was having a shower.
The image of her naked body, glistening with streaming water, bubbles of soapsuds clinging to her amazing curves filled his head.He groaned, opening his eyes in an attempt to remove the image.Regandidneed a moment alone.Thinking of her wet and naked made him want to leap up the stairs, fling open the shower-screen doors and make love to her all over again.
