He released my hair, then unfastened my bra and slid it down my arms, his ragged nails running leisurely down my skin, pebbling it some more. After flinging the scrap of black lycra aside, he dipped his head and cupped my breasts, then reverently kissed each one, turning the buds sharp enough to stab his tongue.
Had I really told this man to go knock on May’s door? What the hell was wrong with me?
Nerves crackling with anticipation, I stopped fisting my comforter, lifted my hands to the waistband of his sweatpants, and glided them off his narrow hips, finding him bare underneath.
He straightened, gifting me an obstructed view of his magnificent body. I wrapped my fingers around him, and then I tasted him. His breathing hitched, and his eyes began to flash as though backlit by a flame. He rasped my name, the rumble of each syllable fanning the blaze spreading through my veins like kerosene.
Humming against his taut, pulsating flesh, I stroked up the long, thick shaft. Soft curses fell from his lips as his fingers settled in my hair, his touch featherlight with the slightest, sweetest tremble. He pulled himself out of my mouth, leaving a gossamer trail of salt on my tongue, then seized the waistband of my jeans and rolled them off my legs, whisking my thong right along with them.
This time, when his dark eyes roamed over my body, over my legs, I didn’t feel the need to palm my scar. I combed my hair over one shoulder, let it settle over one breast as he crouched and retrieved a strip of condoms from his sweatpants. I wished he’d trust me enough not to use them, but it wasn’t me he didn’t trust . . . it was himself.
He ripped one open and rolled it on, eyes roaming over my bared body, nostrils flaring fast, jaw stiff as a hunting trap. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He stretched over me, forcing my spine to yield and meet the mattress, then kissed a trail from the hollow of my collarbone to the inside of my thigh. After a long, slow lick to my core and an even longer and slower inhalation, he straightened to his full height and raised my legs, pinning the backs of my thighs to his torso before gliding into me.
Buried to the hilt, he stilled and pulled in a gravelly breath, then began to rock his hips, adding frenzied sweeps of his thumb. His heavily-lidded eyes took on the amber sheen of his wolf’s as he caressed and penetrated, dragging me closer and closer to the edge of the bed, and to the edge of something else . . . a precipice I’d only ever approached with fangs, vibrators, fingers, and most recently, Liam’s skilled tongue. The wet slap of our bodies overtook our quickening intakes of breath and fragranced the air with the dizzying blend of us.
“Liam . . .” I murmured.
“Yeah, baby?” When I didn’t tack on anything else because I was entirely focused on the spark spreading up the walls he kept pounding into, he chuckled softly and kissed the back of my knee.
The ugly one.
That kiss triggered more sparks, this time deep inside my chest.
Highlighted only by my stars, my Alpha looked more fallen angel than predatory wolf, wingless but so full of otherworldly grace and brutal beauty. He hefted my ankles an inch higher, and the sparks became flames, which in turn became a devouring inferno.
“Liam!” I gasped his name.
He quickened his thrusts, and the angle . . . it hit something. Something that made my lips part around a hissedyes.
“Again. Do that again.”
And he did.
My back arched, and I screamed, the ball of fire streaking from my center to the tips of my eyelashes with the force of those storm clouds that darkened our mountains, lit up our skies, and pounded our valleys.
Face tight with concentration, Liam watched me burn in ecstasy. Suddenly, he went as still as the boulders we were named for and then a tremor resonated through his bones. He snarled and roared, turning the two syllables of my name into a raw lament.
His head fell back, and his broad chest expanded as he poured himself into me. The sight was mesmerizing, a masterpiece of color and shape and sound, a wild beast trapped in the throes of pleasure.
After almost a minute, his fingers slackened and slid down my calves, releasing my legs. Still buried deep, he folded his body over mine and rested his head in the crook of my neck. Tenderly, almost like a child seeking the comfort and sweetness of an embrace. The weight of him, the girth of him, reminded me that Liam Kolane was no child.
Threading my fingers through his slightly damp locks, I whispered, “You succeeded.”
“Hmm?” His breaths skittered over my skin. Breached right through.
“You made me come through intercourse.”
His head lolled back, his stubble chafing my collarbone.“I told you I would.”
Heartbeats swelling anew, I traced the jagged frame of his face, the slant of his cocky smile. He slid one palm beneath my head and towed my mouth to his. The kiss was delicate and sweet, so sweet I skated my mouth off his. Kisses like these were dangerous, because they sank straight through to the soul and took root.
The little dip between his eyebrows formed. “What is it?”
I wanted his tenderness just as much as I wanted his roughness, but tenderness muddled what we were supposed to be. What he wanted us to stay. “I thought I heard the front door,” I lied.
If he sensed my lie, he didn’t call me up on it. Merely heaved himself away and cleaned himself up while I pulled on fresh underwear and a tank top. He retrieved his own clothes and pulled them on, his gaze never leaving my profile and downturned eyes.
“If you want boxers, I may have a pair that fits.”
