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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

A Werewolf in Manhattan (16 page)

BOOK: A Werewolf in Manhattan
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She rested her hands on the counter and closed her eyes. “Again, Aidan.”
The air moved as he took a step back. “Lean over.” The command came softly, but there was no doubt it was a command.
She did as she was told, bracing her hands against the counter and leaning forward. He caressed her from behind, probing and stroking with his fingers until she was panting with pleasure. She was close, so close.
Then he stopped, slipping his fingers free.
She cried out in frustration. “Aidan, please ...”
He made a sound low in his throat. Something hit the floor, a paper crinkled, and then he was back, pumping with his fingers, bringing her the release she craved. Her climax burst upon her, bringing with it wave upon wave of exquisite pleasure. She was drenched and wide-open when she heard his soft growl of need.
Clutching her hips firmly in his big hands, he took her from behind with a swiftness that made her gasp. She tensed against the expected pain, but none came. As he plunged into her over and over, she lifted her hips in silent invitation. Fierce joy surged through her at knowing that her wet vagina welcomed him, all of him.
He stretched her more than any man had, and she gloried in the sensation of his thick length enclosed within her. The intense friction and the elemental joining of his body with hers awakened her womb as nothing had before. He’d given her climaxes, but not like this. The blood roared in her ears as her orgasm built with a slow and steady power timed to the rhythm of his thrusts.
Another growl rose from deep within his chest as he increased the pace. His thighs slapped hers, and if he hadn’t steadied her with his strong grip, she would have toppled under the repeated impact of his body.
Ah, but the pleasure.
The pleasure rolled toward her, coming faster and faster, until
yes, yes, YES.
With a high, keening cry, she came. He shoved home once more, and his bellow of satisfaction echoed against the walls of the room.
His big body trembled against hers as he let out a long, slow sigh. His words were hoarse and filled with anxiety. “Dear God. If I’ve hurt you ...”
If she’d had the breath, she would have laughed. She gulped for air and finally managed to say, “You didn’t.”
He was silent for a moment. “Would you tell me if I had?”
“Yes.” Opening her eyes, she lifted her head so that she could see him reflected in the gilt-framed mirror. “We look like actors in an X-rated movie.”
“Don’t think I haven’t been enjoying the view. Still am.”
She smiled at him. It was quite the pose. There she was, gripping the counter and bent over to allow this beautiful man access. Her breasts bobbed with any small movement, and his sculpted chest heaved as he recovered from their adventure. Both of them glistened with sweat.
She’d never forget this image as long as she lived. “I loved every second,” she murmured.
“Me, too.” Slowly he withdrew and wrapped his arm around her waist to help her up. “But now we’re going to bed.”
“That could be fun for a change.”
He met her gaze in the mirror. “Not so much. We’ll be in separate beds, in separate bedrooms.”
“Aidan! You can’t be serious.”
“I’m totally serious. I’ve seen what this book-tour schedule does to you. You need sleep.” He leaned down and nuzzled behind her ear. “I have a feeling you’ll conk out the minute I’m gone.”
“No, I won’t.” She sounded spoiled and pouty, but she couldn’t help it. “I’ll lie awake all night, wishing you were there beside me. Let’s share the king bed in the master bedroom.”
“If we did that, you’d never get any sleep.” He nipped at her skin.
“Sure I would. We’ll just cuddle.”
“We’d do a lot more than cuddle.”
“Maybe, but then you’d sleep and I’d sleep. Then, if we woke up, we could do more than cuddle again, and then go back to sleep. See, lots of sleeping going on.”
“I usually don’t sleep much.” With his mouth on the curve of her shoulder, he breathed in deeply. “And with you in my bed, I can guarantee I’d be awake all night.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re being overprotective of my sleep time. All guys sleep after having sex. I don’t believe that you wouldn’t.”
“Believe it. Good night, Emma.” Nipping at her shoulder once more, he left the bathroom.
“Wait! You can’t just leave like that.” Her legs were still rubbery, but she hurried after him as best she could. “I insist you come back here, Aidan Wallace!”
He moved fast for a big man. By the time she reached the door of the bedroom, he was no longer there. He wasn’t in the living room, either.
“All right, Aidan!” she called out. “I’m going to search the entire ginormous suite until I find you, and then I’m going to use my feminine wiles on you until you agree that we should share that big bed! You’re being silly about this.”
Before starting her search, though, she went back to the bedroom to make sure he wasn’t there playing a trick on her. She looked behind the door and then in the closet. He wasn’t there.
On her way back through the living room, she picked up the robe that had been left lying there. The curtains were drawn back to show off the spectacular view of skyscrapers at night, and in spite of being so far up, she still didn’t feel comfy running around naked in front of open windows. Somebody in an adjacent office building could be working late.
She laughed at her paranoia as she tightened the belt on the robe.
That someone
working late would have to be equipped with some high-powered binoculars to see anything. Sometimes her imagination ran out of control. Having Theo show up tonight had spooked her a little bit, too.
Maybe that was another reason she wanted Aidan to stay in her bed tonight. His was a very comforting presence to have in case Theo inspired any nightmares. Walking through the spacious penthouse, she taunted Aidan with remarks about what a chicken he was. At some point she added in clucking noises.
Finally, she arrived at a bedroom door that was locked. She rapped on it. “Aidan, are you in there?”
“Yes.” He was chuckling, though, just as she’d thought he might.
Games were okay. Games were good, in fact. “I was thinking of ordering up dessert from room service and asking if they’d include a can of whipped cream.”
“Sorry, but I’m not into sweets.”
“Well, I am. I was thinking you might enjoy having me suck whipped cream off your—”
“Go to bed, Emma.”
“Go to hell, Aidan.” She said it sweetly, but she was genuinely miffed at him as she stomped off to her own room. Throwing off the robe, she crawled naked into bed and fell asleep without remembering to turn out the light.
Chapter 12
Aidan had caught Emma’s scent long before she’d rapped on the door of the bedroom he’d designated as his from the outset. When her scent threatened to affect him, he’d switched to breathing through his mouth and even then, not too deeply. Even a faint whiff of her could tip the delicate balance he was struggling to maintain.
So far, he hadn’t become aroused enough to initiate his shift, but it wouldn’t take much of a seduction effort on her part before he’d be right back where he’d been during that tense moment in the foyer when he’d nearly shifted right in front of her. If he allowed her to arouse him again, he’d have the same damned choice—sex with her or a cold run through the park in wolf form.
Because he’d chosen this bedroom originally, his clothes hung in the closet. Once he’d locked himself in here, he’d pulled on sweats and a T-shirt. That would be enough to get him through the hotel lobby, but he’d rather not go through all that.
Fortunately she’d left quickly. Had she stayed even a minute longer, he might have flung open the door and pulled her inside, because he didn’t relish romping through Grant Park tonight. The risk of discovery was huge.
Apparently he’d made a gross miscalculation as to the effect she’d have on him. Usually sex with a woman—or a female werewolf for that matter—left him satisfied, at least enough to put sex out of his mind for several hours and sometimes for days or even weeks. Not with Emma. Within moments of that first shattering orgasm, his craving for her had returned.
Because it had come on him so quickly, he’d doubted a second round would have been enough. He might have needed to have sex with her three times, or even four. That wasn’t fair to her, not with the obligations she had the next day.
He had only himself to blame for the problem. He’d foolishly surrendered to an overwhelming need to take her in semiwolf fashion, something he’d been warned not to attempt with a human female or suffer the consequences. Although neither of them had been on all fours, the position had been close enough to subtly blend his wolf instincts with his human male sex drive.
It was a powerful and dangerous combination, one he’d learned of during the private sex-education classes every young werewolf had to attend upon reaching sexual maturity. According to the instructor, a werewolf could exercise reasonable control over his or her carnal desires by keeping a strict separation between animal copulation and human sex.
That was easy for Aidan when he was in werewolf form. He and his she-wolf partner had one choice and one choice only. Ah, but when he was a man ... choices abounded. And he was a highly sexed male who loved variety. Still, there were many interesting positions, so he’d been careful to avoid taking a woman from behind and use all the others—until tonight.
Now he understood why his instructor had been so clear on this point. Weres belonged with Weres, and the packs spread across North America would be safer if it stayed that way. Human females had always been classified as an occasional indulgence, one that carried the added danger of exposing the entire Were population.
Thank God he and Emma hadn’t gone the full-wolf route with Aidan mounting her while she was on her hands and knees. Even lacking the intention of binding her to him as a mate, he might have strengthened the bond between them to a level that would be almost impossible to break.
But all was not lost. He still might be able to override this lapse in judgment.
He wasn’t quite clear the best way to do that. Logic told him he shouldn’t have any more sexual contact with Emma, but she wouldn’t understand why, and he wouldn’t be able to tell her. Maybe if they had sex, but only in the missionary position, she’d once again fit into the category of an occasional indulgence, one he could give up when that became necessary.
She wasn’t in that category now. Thinking of giving her up depressed the hell out of him. She was smart, funny, and sassy. He’d bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud when she’d pertly told him to go to hell.
But her intelligence and sense of humor weren’t the most compelling reasons he wanted Emma Gavin. The reason was far more basic than that—her scent drove him insane. It had from the first, and after experiencing full-body sex with her and breathing in all her enticing aromas, he was hooked.
He needed advice, but he wasn’t about to call Roarke. Either he’d wake his brother or interrupt him in the middle of a hot date. Either way, Roarke wouldn’t be in the mood to discuss Aidan’s options, especially considering Roarke completely disapproved of this bodyguard project.
Aidan lay back on one of the two double beds in the room. Sometimes he could think better in wolf form, and by doing that, he’d guarantee he wouldn’t lose the battle and head into Emma’s room.
As much as he hated shifting against his will when he was aroused, he didn’t mind it at all when he commanded it to happen. Shifting on command provided its own kind of release, and maybe in wolf form he’d find wisdom. He sure as hell could use some wisdom.
The door was locked, and the penthouse was quiet. If he had to guess, he’d say Emma had crawled into bed and fallen asleep immediately. She’d had a tiring day and several good orgasms at the end of it. In his experience with human females, that contributed to a good night’s sleep.
He quickly removed his clothes and stretched out on the bed. Then he turned to gaze at the fat snowflakes falling lazily past his window. Shifting was an art form that was, in the mature werewolf, supposed to be entirely voluntary. Aidan had always resented the genetic defect that caused his involuntary shifts, but he was proud of his ability to shift on command.
The process required something akin to self-hypnosis, and the snowflakes provided the necessary focus for his attention. As he concentrated on their easy descent, the shift began. Because he wasn’t resisting it, as he had when he was with Emma, the sensations caused pleasure rather than pain. Within seconds his rich brown, silver-tipped pelt covered his body, and his teeth grew sharp and whiter.
Rolling to his side, he gave room for his tail to grow until it became a sensitive extension of his body. His hands and feet became large paws, and the muscles and sinews of his arms and legs transformed until he became an animal capable of leaping a six-foot wall in a single bound.
But there would be no dramatic leaping and running tonight. Instead he paced the room and stretched, adjusting to his wolf body and pausing to shake himself from head to tail. He cherished this wolf form when he could choose it instead of having it thrust upon him in a potentially dangerous situation.
As a wolf, he connected to the forest, to the heavens, to the moon. In the city, he couldn’t see any of those things, and certainly not in this hotel room. Yet he padded over to the window and looked out because the outdoors was his element. The window glass reflected a majestic wolf with silver-tipped fur and deep-set golden eyes.
As he stood watching the snow fall onto the street below, he sensed another of his kind nearby, perhaps on the street below. Instantly his whole body tensed. In his wolf state he could communicate with other Weres, but only through the exchange of thoughts.
He tossed the first volley.
Who goes there? Friend or foe?
BOOK: A Werewolf in Manhattan
11.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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