Hunger of the Wolf (15 page)

One bathroom, one bedroom, five people, Shilo thought wryly. Pack brothers or not, she knew they weren't used to sharing such close quarters. Their place was huge. If their vigil lasted very long the ‘togetherness’ was bound to start getting on everyone's nerves.

She didn't know whether to hope for a quick resolution or not. It was bound to be even more lonesome around her place if they stayed long enough that she got used to their company, but she wasn't that anxious to have the place to herself regardless of how cramped it was.

She knew it was unwise to be so deliriously happy about having company, regardless of their reasons for being there, that she was headed for misery when they left, but she couldn't help it. She was happy they were there.

Despite the fact that there was a steady stream of traffic from the living room to the bathroom as the men took turns with the facilities, Shilo managed to get thoroughly engrossed in the movie. So much so that when the toothy alien jumped out and grabbed one of the male characters and someone clamped a hand on her shoulder at the same moment she nearly jumped out of her skin. Uttering a yelp, she leapt off the couch. Jessie and Dante were both grinning at her when she whirled to look at them. She narrowed her eyes at them. “Alright! Who's the smartass that grabbed me?"

Jessie chuckled. “It was him."

Shilo studied him for a long moment and then turned to consider Dante. He laughed and patted the couch where she'd been sitting. “Come on, baby. I won't let the bad old alien get you."

"Very funny,” Shilo retorted, torn between irritation at being scared and pleasure at their teasing at the same time as she settled on the couch between them again. It took her a few minutes to get back into the movie. The moment she did, however, someone grabbed her again. That time she merely jumped, but she threw her crochet work into the air reflexively when she did and all four men laughed. She sent Dante an indignant look, certain this time it had been him. Still chuckling, he grabbed her and dragged her across his lap. “I didn't scare you did I?"

She gave him a look.

He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “I'll make it up to you,” he murmured, his voice husky with promise.

She reddened, tempted to inform him that he needn't think he was going to get rewarded for scaring the hell out of her—twice—but she was afraid he might take it to heart. “Ready for bed?” he asked when she leaned away from him.

She felt her blush deepen, but tried to ignore it. “Ah ... about that. I don't know where to put everyone. I've only got the one bed and the couch. I thought maybe I could take the couch and let y'all have the bedroom, but somebody's going to have to sleep on the floor."

"You go to bed. We'll work out the arrangements."

Shrugging, Shilo got up and went into her room to get the extra pillows and blankets she had. Dante, she discovered, had followed her. He took the bedding from her and took it into the living room.

Feeling abruptly shy and excited at the same time, Shilo went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, wishing she had something sexy and slinky to slip in to instead of the overlarge t-shirts she generally slept in.

It didn't occur to her, once, to take exception to his assumption that he was welcome in her bed, mostly because he was. It did occur to her that she'd been way too easy to get, which was always a bad thing when it came to men. On the other, she was under no illusion that it was more than what it was—she was convenient, and he was horny. She wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. She'd long since realized that if she didn't ‘seize the day’ she wasn't going to get any enjoyment out of life at all.

Pathetic or not, she couldn't bring herself to act too prideful to take charity.

Chapter Fifteen

Dante dropped the bedding on the couch and turned to look at his men. “Kane, you and Jesse will have to toss for the couch,” he said and smiled faintly, “or settle the issue however you want as long as it doesn't involve anything that might distress Shilo.” He turned and studied Maurice for a long moment, frowning thoughtfully. “Give me thirty minutes.” He paused at the bedroom and turned back to Maurice. “Make that an hour."

She'd left the bathroom light on. He didn't need it, of course, but since he thought she might want it that way, he merely pulled the door to until it left only a sliver of light spilling into the room when he left the bathroom.

She was studying him with a mixture of doubt and, he knew, anticipation when he stopped by the bed and undressed. He could hear the blood pounding through her veins, smell her arousal, and it increased his own. He dragged the covers she had clutched under her chin off of her and tossed them back before he placed his knee on the bed.

"What's this?” he murmured with a touch of amusement, plucking at the t-shirt that engulfed her as he settled a knee on either side of her hips and stared down at her. “Is my little Shilo feeling shy?"

Blood surged into her cheeks, but she sat up readily enough and tugged the shirt off over her head. He followed her down as she lay back against the pillows again, bracing himself slightly above her on his elbows and staring down into her eyes, gauging her acceptance of him before he tilted his head to slant his mouth over hers. There was no shyness in her kiss, no reluctance, no doubt about his welcome. She parted her lips readily for him. He could sense her burgeoning desire, and triumph and possessiveness tightened inside of him, making his need shoot to the edge of control.

He struggled with it as he made love to her mouth, made it his by filling her senses with his taste and scent and touch even as he fed his own hunger with hers. He'd promised to control himself, though, promised himself he would, so that he could give her more pleasure. His mind filled with the memory of her gasps and cries of pleasure when he'd joined with her before, however, filled with the memory of her hot, clinging flesh around his, and he felt his control slipping another notch as the fever gripped him.

Tearing his mouth from hers after only a few moments, he heaved in several sustaining breaths and slipped lower. Enjoying the less distracting but equally pleasant exploration of her throat, he allowed his lips to crawl over her soft skin, testing the smoothness with his lips, tasting her, listening to her breath catch, the soft sighs she uttered at his every touch, the sharper gasps when he found a particularly sensitive spot.

He hadn't expected her to be so responsive to him. He knew she was afraid of lycans in general if not him in particular, and he'd thought he would have to coax her, win her slowly. He'd told himself he would, that he would have to expect that.

And he'd still been so mindless with need that first time he hadn't been able to control himself at all, hadn't been able to think of anything beyond getting inside of her as quickly as he could and claiming her. As crazed as he'd been, he'd realized dimly that she was liable to scream rape and he still couldn't slow down, couldn't regain an ounce of control once he'd started.

She'd come for him, though. He hadn't been certain the first time. He'd thought ... but he'd had some doubts, had been too caught up in the blinding, mind blowing explosion of his own climax to allow him much awareness of anything else. The second time, he'd been able to retain enough reason to be more certain.

She'd certainly given him every reason to believe, afterward, that he'd pleased her, but he wanted, needed, to know that she was his, that she felt what he felt when he joined with her—the sense of belonging.

This time, he thought as he traced a path over the rounded mound of one breast and drew a slow, teasing circle around the turgid peak with the tip of his tongue, he'd know beyond the shadow of doubt.

* * * *

Excitement had threaded Shilo's veins the moment Dante had come into the room until she'd thought she would hyperventilate and pass out before he even reached the bed. She was more than a little embarrassed about it, but she couldn't seem to help it.

Julie had been so right! It had
never
occurred to her that being with the right man would make such a difference.

She hadn't realized that she'd never actually achieved climax before for that matter. She'd been sure she had. It had felt good—a little disappointing considering all the hype about it—but nice. The real thing wasn't just ‘nice', though. It was beyond fabulous—pure heaven—and knowing Dante could give her that made her so desperate to feel it again impatience warred with pleasure as he built the heat inside of her slowly with his kisses and his touch.

She didn't want slow! She wanted now! She wanted deep, rough, pounding that would drive her to completion within moments. She was hungry for it, greedy for it, wanted to demand he give it to her right away.

She forgot all about that, though, as he began to pluck at her nipples with his mouth and tongue. Heat scored her insides, brought her to feverish expectancy. Exquisite little jolts of pleasure traveled through her and centered in her sex until she could hardly catch her breath.

He lingered, suckling at first one and then the other until she couldn't be still for the urgency burning her alive, until her mouth and throat were so dry from her gasping breaths she couldn't swallow, until she'd begun to clutch at him, begging him wordlessly to end her torment.

When he moved lower, opening his mouth over the soft juncture where her ribs joined, it felt as if he'd punched the breath from her lungs. She struggled to catch it again as he meandered a path downwards lazily, sucking at little patches of skin until he reached her belly. Peeling her panties down her hips, he explored the area between her pelvic bones that quivered with her labored heartbeats and even more difficult breaths. Then he discovered a spot that was so keenly sensitive at the juncture of her thighs she almost thought she couldn't stand it when he kissed her there, found herself shifting beneath him because she couldn't be still.

Sitting up after a moment, he dragged her panties down her thighs, slipped them over her calves and then off her feet. She wasn't certain what to do with her legs and dropped them limply to the bed as he tossed her panties aside. Holding her gaze, he curled a hand around each of her calves and pushed until she bent her knees. Settling the soles of her feet on the bed, he slipped his hands from her calves to her ankles and pushed her feet wide apart.

A touch of embarrassed reluctance flickered through her as he scooped her buttocks into the palms of his hands. She made an aborted attempt to clamp her knees together, but he wedged his shoulders between them as he descended. Briefly, panic went through her as it dawned on her he really did intend to put his mouth on her. No one had ever done anything like that before—Not that a couple hadn't tried, but she hadn't been comfortable with the idea. She still wasn't, fearful that Dante was only doing it because he thought she wanted him to and he wouldn't find it pleasurable at all, or worse, he'd be revolted.

She made a grab for his hair to push him away as he bent his head toward her. He ignored the tug on his scalp, opening his mouth over her sex anyway. His mouth felt like fire on her tender flesh. His tongue, as he dragged it slowly along her cleft as if savoring the taste of her, sent a jolt like an electric current through her. Her stomach clenched so hard it pushed the air from her lungs as she felt the faint abrasion of his tongue on her clit.

She gasped for breath, squeezed her eyes tightly shut as he sucked it into his mouth. Weakness washed over her. Everything inside of her went taut and then every muscle in her body lost muscle tone as he tugged at the bud. Her thighs fell open. Her hands stilled in his hair. A groan worked its way up her throat as she felt him lift her buttocks to give him better access and his mouth moved over her with a hunger she felt all the way to her core.

She recognized the building tension inside of her instantly this time, knew where it was taking her. Closing her mind to everything but the feel of his mouth and tongue, she allowed the glorious, pleasurable tension to build, unfettered by the doubts that had plagued her moments before. The surety of his mouth and tongue made it impossible to doubt he was enjoying what he was doing to her.

She wanted it to go on forever. Too soon, she felt the tension reach the point of no return. She struggled to hold it off just a few moments more, to savor the feel of him on her a little longer. She couldn't, though. The tease of his mouth was unrelenting. She sucked in a sharp breath as her senses reached a surfeit of the pleasure it could contain and her body seized tightly and then exploded as she came, forcing keen, sobbing breaths from her with each escalating convulsion until she was almost screaming with each seizure.

She began struggling to escape him as her body peaked, and then peaked higher, wracking her endlessly until she began to think she'd black out. She dropped into a pit of darkness when he lifted his head at last and ceased to drive her body into convulsing over and over in rapture. Semi-conscious, she felt his lips move over her quaking belly as he climbed up her body in much the same way he'd traveled downward, nipping at her quivering flesh.

She groaned faintly in protest as he suckled at her breast.

No more stimulation, she thought a little wildly. She couldn't take any more.

She managed to lift her eyelids a fraction as she felt him staring down at her. His face was still taut with his own needs, his eyes glazed, feverish. She lifted her arms with great effort, settling her palms along his sides and skimming them lightly over his back, stroking him appreciatively. He dipped his head, covering her mouth in a gusty, urgent kiss as he reached between them and dragged his cock along her cleft to gather her moisture. She shuddered at the jolts that went through her at the contact. Clenching her teeth against the sensations that had sharpened almost to the point of pain, she curled her hips to meet him as she felt the head of his cock enter the mouth of her sex.

The muscles along her channel were still taut from her release. They almost seemed to clench more tightly at the intrusion, trying to repel the invasion. She heard him grinding his teeth as he pushed inside of her with determined pressure. She tried to relax the muscles and when that failed, countered the pressure to help him force his way inside of her. Sweat beaded his skin. His big body quivered, shook as if he had a fever. He gasped, gritted his teeth and fought for conquest every inch of the way until her muscles finally relaxed fractionally, her moisture at last easing his passage.

Echoes of her climax rippled through her as he withdrew slightly and thrust again. As certain as she'd been moments before that she'd reached a surfeit of pleasure, couldn't even think of wanting more, a thrill of anticipation went through her. She met his next thrust with more enthusiasm, curled her hips as he began to pump in to her with the swift, pounding thrusts of urgency that told her he was close to his peak. Doubt flooded her briefly when he stiffened, but it was swept away as her body reached its peak and she came again even as he did.

As hard as her first climax was, the second one surpassed it. She bit down on his chest lightly, trying to muffle the hoarse cries it tore from her, whimpering and groaning at the magnitude of it and finally, when the paroxysms began to dissipate, felt herself drop into a warm cocoon of blissful lassitude.

He leaned heavily against her, shivering, gasping for breath. The arms he'd braced to support himself quivered weakly. After a few moments, he shifted downward far enough to cover her mouth in a languid kiss. When he lifted his head, he aligned his nose with hers. “Was it good for you?” he asked in a husky whisper.

Her mind went blank for a moment. She chuckled weakly when she realized he was teasing her. “No. I was only screaming to stroke your ego."

Chuckling in response, he rolled off of her and settled on his side, dragging her lightly against his chest and stroking a hand over her. When she shivered as her body cooled, he sat up long enough to grab the covers and pull them over them. “That was ... fabulous,” she murmured breathily.

She sensed that he was smiling. Snuggling closer, she smiled in satisfaction. She doubted he needed his ego stroked, but he certainly deserved a round of applause for that. “I've never come before,” she admitted after struggling several moments with whether or not to tell him. She was so thrilled about it, though, she couldn't contain the need to share.

His hand hesitated on her. “You mean twice like that?"

"No, I mean, at all, before you."

He pulled her more tightly against him. She heard him swallow. “I've never come like that before,” he said after a prolonged silence.

She didn't believe that, but it put a smile on her face as she drifted off.

She roused slightly as she felt the bed dip later. Confusion flickered over her when she realized she was still wrapped snugly against Dante. Warmth filtered through her back and the realization that someone had settled behind her and it hadn't been Dante leaving the bed. For a few moments her consciousness drifted higher, her senses expanding to explore the new presence, her mind lazily sorting the impressions and trying to identify the body at her back, but then she dismissed it and sought oblivion again.