Read SixBarkPackTabooMobi Online

Authors: Carys Weldon

Tags: #Erotica

SixBarkPackTabooMobi (8 page)

BOOK: SixBarkPackTabooMobi
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No wonder
he
had me at the first hooded glance. I didn’t know if I was coming or going, but I knew I wanted to come more than anything else.

 
 

Did I mention that a garou tongue is about as long as anything you’ve ever seen? Not that I was looking. I was too busy groaning with my eyes closed. But I felt that marvelous wonder of his work its way at an angle under the leather shirt to tingle-touch my nipple. Yeah.
Tingle-touch
. That arousing, almost makes you want to giggle, you can’t hardly stand it, type of tease?

 
 

First one. Then the other. Return to the first. Lave a little longer in its flick and lick until they were both puckered up, begging to be sucked. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more. I reached up between us, and yanked the sides of the corset completely wide, begging, “Oh, my Gaia, get to it!”

 
 

He chuckled, pushed my breasts up--but damn if he didn’t do anything but lie like that, just enjoying the feel of my skin against his nose.

 
 

I groaned. Boxed him in the ears.

 
 

Not hard. Just enough to get his attention. To bring his head up.

 
 

I tipped my head up, too, and looked him in the eye. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

 
 

He grinned. Now, let me tell you something about Barklay’s face. It’s pleasant. Not pointy. Not flat. Nicely rounded features. His lips aren’t fat, but they aren’t skinny. Same with his nose. In human, he just looks...happy. Like he was made to make you feel good.

 
 

Maybe it’s because with me, he’s in his own little heaven. Or I see him that way because he makes me feel like I’ve gone and lost myself in tongue-fucking nirvana. Whatever.

 
 

There’s a light in his eyes. I feel like it shines just for me. That he wonders how he got so lucky--every time he looks at my face.

 
 

Honestly, he said, “You make
me
crazy. It’s only fair.”

 
 

“Could have fooled me.” I couldn’t tell I was making him crazy. I mean, his whole body had been very still--just his tongue and head moving.

 
 

The growl rose up from down in his groin. I felt it roll up between us. He asked, rather dangerously, “Don’t taunt me into showing you how crazy I feel. I’m trying to make this pleasant.”

 
 

I felt like I’d had my whiskers popped. Confused. I ‘pussed’ my lips.

 
 

Bark growled again, rocked into me so he could reach my mouth with his.

 
 

I have never been kissed like what he does. I mean, I never know what he’s gonna do next. Hard kiss, soft kiss. Tongue. Eat me alive. Always leaves me guessing. And every time I think I know how to meet him in the middle, he changes on me.

 
 

It’s good and it’s bad.

 
 

Makes him happy to know he’s got me like that. I know, because he chuckles every time he sees that look in my eyes. I stopped asking, “What
the hell
are you doing? I can’t keep up.” Or... “I don’t know how to--” Cut off with another kiss. Or the damn flick of a tongue to my nose.

 
 

He totally enjoys himself at my expense.

 
 

And truth? I love the pleasure it brings him. I smile like an idiot in wonderland the whole time.

 
 

There is nothing
neater
than feeling him rumble from deep down while he has me pinned. While he looks down on me in delight--at the prospect of all he wants to do to me--all he plans to do to me.

 
 

I revel in it. I just want to sigh, look up at the ceiling and thank Gaia. I never knew love--making love--could be so sweet.

 
 

Not that I’d ever tell him.

 
 

Sweet?

 
 

He wouldn’t believe I said the word.

 
 

The minute I thought it, I realized I had to do something. But really, that’s how fast he had me. How long had we known each other at that point? Not very long.

 
 

I screwed up my face and said, “Get on with it, or get off of me.”

 
 

So, you wanna see shock? You wanna see an instant change?

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

Chapter Five

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

Bark looked like he’d been slapped.

 
 

Then he tore into me. Lashed back. “You like it rough, puss? I can show you that.”

 
 

Let me tell you, I
never
knew what pawing was before that.

 
 

I panicked. I mean, he totally let loose. Flipped a fucking howl on me. That’ll chill a cat’s bones, get a girl scratching. And that--fighting back?--probably incited him more.

 
 

Not that he hurt me. Cause he didn’t. But I sure felt like he could, any second.

 
 

All I know is...it took nothing to get my clothes ripped off of me. Shredded. If I’d had my eyes open, I could tell you if he shape-shifted on me a little. I’m pretty sure he did.

 
 

I rolled, protecting, trying to draw my knees up, and kicked a little.

 
 

And he...not kicking me, just moving his legs over mine, trying to weigh me down. Probably protecting himself. Yeah. It’s a little funny when you try to picture what actually happened there. He growled repeatedly.

 
 

Go ahead. Laugh. It makes me snicker when I think about what I thought, and what I think he thought. Because, really, I don’t think either of us were thinking much at all. We were just reacting to one another. And the fact that we were nuts for each other....

 
 

And really scared about what we were feeling. I can admit that, now.

 
 

It took him a minute to get through his little mini-rage, and to realize that I was scared and clawing because of that. Next thing I knew, he had a hold on my wrists, nailed those above me, had his tree trunk body full down on me.

 
 

You see, until then, I never realized how much control he’d been using--how much physical strength he used just to keep his weight off of me. Anyhow, he effectively squashed me. Shut me up with another kiss. Blanketed me like a bear. Knocked the air completely out of me.

 
 

I can imagine what that sounded like to anyone outside. Like he was torturing me, or ripping me limb from limb. Before he got his lips back on mine, I mean. I can
really
squeal like a pained cat. Shrug. What can I say? I’m bastet. Comes with the package. Most guys like a little of that. So it works for me.

 
 

I never knew what hit me. It was like, wow, pow, bam, wham, squeal, squall. And then...collapse, shut up and then, oh my Gaia. He’s past the issue, forgotten it, forgiven me for whatever I did to set him off. And then, almost sad. Totally apologetic. Absolutely gentle. I fell in love with that expression, right there. When he lifted his face and examined my mouth.

 
 

Had to grab his face, look him in the eye, whisper, “I’m sorry, Bark.” I kissed him--sweet--back.

 
 

Never have I kissed a man like that. Usually, I go for the tongue lashing, verbal and physical. Snap, crack. A little pop.

 
 

Fuck me fast and get the hell off. I’ve got a quota to reach, remember?

 
 

But I lost track of the fact that Leo and Tommy were probably going frantic looking for me. I was too lost in Barklay’s world.

 
 

He surprised me by saying, “I want to make love to you.”

 
 

That’s what I thought we’d been doing. Or working up to.

 
 

What he was really telling me was to lie back and let him do the work. That was definitely a new one on me.

 
 

It took a few seconds for it to sink in, for me to put my head on the floor, relax and eventually close my eyes again. When I was limp beneath him once more, he eased his grip on my wrists, slid his legs, his whole body, lower--took his full weight off of me. I could breathe, but I wasn’t sure what was up.

 
 

Duh.

 
 

Barklay let out a little whine. He propped himself on his elbows and looked down at what he’d done, how he’d exposed me. Said, “I’m sorry, puss.” Spared a kiss here and there. Any place where there might be the slightest mottling.

 
 

I can’t say it enough. He
never
hurt me.

 
 

I’ve got natural mottling, comes out when I’m excited. So, he was kissing me everywhere, muttering, “I’m so sorry,” over and over again. Tells you about his real heart. He wouldn’t hurt a woman on purpose. I’ll never believe that. He didn’t even know me that night, and I was everything he should have shredded, and he gently...
no, reverently
, loved my body.

 
 

You get it, right? Barklay is a total body worshipper.

 
 

By the time he kissed his way down to my thighs, I sobbed for release. I didn’t care how I got it, either. He could go down on me, or enter me. I wanted it all. Whatever
he
wanted.

 
 

When he let go of my hands, I have no idea.

 
 

But I do remember feeling the fleshy depth of his muscular shoulders, kneading them rhythmically, encouraging him with words, whispered beggings, telling him how well he pleased me, and to keep it up.

 
 

Totally selfish.

 
 

Needy.

 
 

Desperate.

 
 

That elicited more whines. I don’t think he realized he was doing it.

 
 

There comes a point when you can’t take any more. Without getting mad. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t frustrated to hell and back. I was.

 
 

He kept bumping my clit with his nose, but he was kissing up the inside of my thighs, trying to lick and taste where my body and legs meet. I’m sure there was plenty to intrigue him. I hadn’t showered in way too long.

 
 

I forgot the other men by then. I want you to know that. I forgot them. Completely. And Daddy, and Tommy, and Leo, too. All of them.

 
 

Didn’t turn him off, though. If anything, I think it spurred his interest. Sealed his desire to put a firm mark on me. To claim me for his own.

 
 

Garou are very territorial. Extremely possessive.

 
 

Perhaps my nails finally dug in enough, through his shirt, to relay the brink he’d brought me to. He stopped moving. Pressed his lips to mine--down below. Held them there, with his eyes closed.

 
 

Savored the taste of me.

 
 

Talk about a sweet, sweet moment. I felt the pressure of his lips--up through the core of my body. It shot spirals of something warm through me. Speared me all the way to my heart.

 
 

That made my eyes pop open. Yes, I wanted to cry.

 
 

He must’ve felt my whole body heave in preparation, in fighting it. Another kiss followed, very soft, immensely brief, and then he sat up on his knees. Had to push himself up with some effort. Took a minute.

 
 

I hadn’t realized how his fingers had been sliding over my legs and my hips, holding me while he adjusted to the different angles required in his lovemaking kisses. At least, not until he pulled them from me, and rested them on his own hips, looking down at me. At the golden curls between my legs.

 
 

Gingerly, he reached out again, as if he couldn’t stand not touching me there. In awe?

 
 

He said, “You’re--” His voice trailed off.

 
 

I felt sure that he’d been ready to say 'beautiful'. I’d heard that before.

 
 

He seemed to be searching for a better word. It made me smile, a little. I couldn’t wait to see what he came up with.

 
 

“What?” My voice sounded husky.

 
 

Of course it did. I’d been purring for so long, it was amazing I could even form words at all.

 
 

It took a minute, but his brow furrowed, and he said with a hard swallow, “Taboo.” It made him sad, and self-deprecating. I could see it in his eyes. And I felt bad for that.

 
 

“I’m sorry.” It was the first time I was ever sorry for being bastet.

 
 

But not the last. That’s another story.

 
 

In one fluid motion, I rolled up to a sitting position, slid up to him, wrapped my legs around him and cupped his face. It felt round in my hands. So...big.

 
 

His puppy dog eyes got me.

 
 

I kissed him, just a quick, plush sort of kiss. His lips were swollen-feeling to mine. Or maybe mine were. I don’t know. It felt cushy. Wet. Perfect. Very lovable.

 
 

Putting my forehead to his, I said, “Don’t think. Okay?” I knew he was having second thoughts, trying to get a grip, to remember how wrong it was for the two of us to be together. I had never felt anything so wonderful in my life, though. I couldn’t imagine stopping.

 
 

Which is why I started kissing him. Temple to temple. On his forehead. Climbed up onto my knees, holding him to my bosom, begging, “Please don’t stop making love to me.”

 
 

He shuddered.

 
 

There is nothing more...aching...than feeling a grown man, a man big enough to snap most other guys in half with his bare hands, feeling a man like that shake and tremble beneath your hands. He wrapped his massive arms around me and held on.

 
 

He couldn’t get any control, though. At least, I think that’s what he was fighting, because he turned his face upward and muttered, “Gaia help me. I don’t want to stop.”

 
 

My fingers slid to the sides of his face again, and my thumbs spread, smoothing his skin through the crow’s feet by his eyes. And I felt tears.

 
 

“Please don’t.” I started kissing him frantically, repeating, “Please, please don’t.”

 
 

Don’t cry. Don’t stop. Don’t say it’s wrong.

 
 

I don’t think he could fight me. Not that he really wanted to. But, he wouldn’t budge when I tried to lay him back, unbuttoning his shirt as fast I could, smoothing it over his shoulders, sliding and gliding my hands over him, feeling every contour. I couldn’t get enough of that. I was afraid that he’d push me away, so I put my lips to his and kissed him deep. Undressing him. Got the shirt off. Undid his pants. Fumbling effort, but I managed it.

 
 

When he didn’t help me with it, I knew he was still struggling with stopping the insanity. There’s a boost to a girl’s ego. He was thinking rationally while I was kissing his brains out.

BOOK: SixBarkPackTabooMobi
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