The Psy-Changeling Series, Books 6-10 (213 page)

He didn’t take orders from anyone . . . but for her, he’d make an exception. Closing his hand over the erotic invitation of her breast once more, he squeezed, catching her responding cry with his mouth. Under his palm, her nipple was hard, pebbled, pure temptation.

Breaking the kiss, he made his way back down her throat, nipping at her pulse because he liked the way that made her body flush with heat, the sensual musk of her deep and earthy. It drugged his wolf, intoxicated the man. Flicking out his tongue to tease the taut bud of her nipple, he smiled as her abdomen quivered under his palm.

He bit her next.

She jumped but didn’t seem to mind his teeth there. But it was when he began to suck with hard, long pulls while plucking at her neglected nipple that she moaned, her hands clenching in his hair. Filing away that piece of knowledge for future reference, he scraped his teeth over her nipple.

Her entire body jerked.

Switching hand and mouth, he rubbed his thumb over the nipple he’d left wet and throbbing, then settled down to give the other one the same treatment. A rumbling sound of sexual pleasure rolled up from his chest as her ankles locked at his back, merging with her throaty little cries.

When he lifted his head, her breath was jagged, her skin bearing the marks of his loving. But she was very much with him, his smart, sexy Psy. Raising her fingers, she played them over his lips, laughing when he tried to nip at them. Then she growled at him. Delighted, his wolf leaned down to press kisses along her jaw, down the line of her throat.

Her scent was so decadent, so rich. Autumn and spice and steel. He rolled it around himself, happy because as of last night, that scent was intertwined with his own, not to be erased as long as they remained lovers—which would be forever. No negotiation. No “out” clause. “Do that again,” he murmured, grazing his teeth along the outer curve of one of her breasts.

A shiver across her flesh. “I
need.
”

Nuzzling his way down to her abdomen, he pressed a kiss on her navel, his tongue tasting the perspiration-damp heat of her skin. “Let me satisfy you.” He forced himself to go slow, to not rip off the rest of her clothing. Instead, he gave her time to fight, to get away if she needed to as he broke her hold on him to slip off her shoes, then moved to undo her jeans and pull them down her legs, along with her panties.

But she stayed in place, her pretty legs sleek against the skin of his jaw as he threw the clothing off the side of the bed and rubbed his face against her.

“Oh.” A short, shimmering sound, her hands fisting in the tumbled sheets.

Intrigued, he rubbed his jaw against the soft skin of her inner thighs once more. Her legs clenched around him, her scent a wild perfume. Wanting to lick it up, he rose onto his knees, spreading her thighs in front of him as he did so. His stubble had marked her soft skin, and he wasn’t the least bit sorry.

Stroking his hands down her calves, he felt her socks. Chuckled. “I think we’ll leave these on.”

She rubbed one socked foot on his thigh. “Shouldn’t sex be more serious?”

“Baby, which pack have you been living with the past few years?” Leaning down, he kissed the side of her knee before shifting down to lie between her legs.

“Hawke?”

He stroked her legs up over his shoulders. “What do you need?”

 

 

THE
husky question, asked in a tone that said he’d give her everything, anything, melted Sienna from the inside out. “You’re beautiful.”

Her wolf looked up, his eyes reflecting silver in the lights that stroked them both in soft gold. “I like hearing you say that. Tell me again after.”

“After what?”

“This.” Sliding his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her to his mouth and then he—

The scream was torn out of her. It didn’t stop him, and oh, she was grateful. As he sucked and bit and tasted, she realized he’d been holding back last night in more ways than one. If that had been the dessert, this was the full-course meal.

When he stroked his tongue through her quivering flesh, she lifted herself up to his mouth for more. “Shameless,” he teased, letting her feel the edge of his teeth. “Just the way I like you.” She got more. A lot more.

Her brain hazed over. Legs crossing at his back as he ate her up like she was the most exotic delicacy prepared for him alone, Sienna surrendered to the rolling waves of pleasure, the breakers crashing over her in a wash of ecstasy so hot and sweet, it made flames lick up along her skin, a splinter of dissonance spear down her spine.

The pain was negligible—and it shouldn’t have been.

That worried her, but only for a second, because Hawke raised his head with a final, lingering lick, and moved one hand up to play with the flickering red and yellow of the cold fire. “It doesn’t burn.”

It took massive effort to find enough brain cells to put together an explanation. All she got out was, “No.”

Rubbing his jaw against her navel, Hawke moved to press kisses along the insides of her thighs. “No more,” she found the will to say. “Can’t take it.”

A chuckle that held total male satisfaction. “What if I want to play?”

“I’ll kill you,” she threatened.

Laughing in a way that told her the primal heart of him was very much in charge, he shifted up her body even as he slid his hand down to cup her with breathtaking intimacy, using one finger to stroke the excruciatingly sensitive entrance to her body. She arched into the touch, and when he bent to take her mouth, she took his in turn. His body was warm muscle and heavy weight on top of her. And his chest . . .

She rubbed against the fine, soft hairs that covered the ridged plane, her nipples tingling with sensation. When he pushed a finger inside of her, she bit down on his shoulder. He growled, holding her head against him as he stroked that finger in and out in a maddening rhythm.

Insane, she thought, he was going to drive her insane. Releasing her grip on his shoulder, she grabbed his head between her palms. “Now.”

The wolf looked out at her. “In a minute.” He inserted a second finger, parted them inside, caressing her in the most intimate fashion.

“Hawke.”
She could feel an orgasm approaching again, knew she wasn’t going be able to fight it.

Of course he didn’t back off. He petted her even more outrageously. She fell hard—and came to rest in his arms, her entire body so limp with pleasure that the idea of moving was not even to be considered. But when he kissed her, she found she had just enough energy to return the long, lazy tangling.

A stroke inside her, and her tissues quivered at the realization that his fingers were still lodged within. “Sorry,” she murmured, “going to sleep now.”

A sexy, sexy laugh. Raining a line of hot, wet kisses down her throat as he withdrew his fingers, he spread her legs. It came to her that he was wearing his jeans, that she had on the remains of her shirt. “Clothes.”

“Hmm.” A momentary coldness and then he was back, hot and hard and very, very aroused.

She sucked in a breath as he pushed in with the blunt head of his cock, her fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders. It still wasn’t comfortable, but oh, the rough friction felt good. Pushing one hand into his hair, she undulated her pelvis toward him, welcoming his possession. He shuddered, taking a hard grip on her hip. And then he thrust.

She jerked, tried to process the sensations, realized there was no managing this.

His hand clenching and unclenching on her hip, the bare kiss of claws. It made her shiver, meet his gaze. “Yes,” she said, seeing the unasked question in his eyes, this wolf who’d given her pleasure upon pleasure.

It was like snapping the leash.

Untamed and infinitely hungry, he moved over her, in her, with a hot power that had her crying out, her body going tight around the velvet steel of him. Clawing at his back, she felt his muscles bunch under her touch, his body a creation of raw beauty and wild strength.

Reaching behind himself, he pulled one of her legs off his waist, bent it to the knee, and pushed it wide, spreading her for his possession. His next thrust went so deep it reverberated through her very being. The last thing she remembered was feeling the kiss of claws along the side of her knee as he growled and sank into her in a rush of scalding heat.

HEART PUMPING LIKE
a rapid piston, Hawke raised his head after the orgasm that had almost ripped him in two to look down at the woman who continued to hold him inside. Possessive thing. Nuzzling at her as she tried to open heavy-lidded eyes, he stroked his hand down her thigh and said, “Again.”

Her response turned the air blue.

Smiling against her skin, he took a lazy bite out of her breast, licking over the mark that was already fading. He’d just had the best orgasm of his life, and he felt like he had more energy than he knew what to do with. As for his body, it was more than ready. Remaining seated in her snug channel, he stroked and petted as he checked to make sure he hadn’t inadvertently hurt her with his claws.

There were no cuts, no injuries. The wolf relaxed, content to play now. When she bit him on the arm—
hard
—the instant he flicked a finger over her clit, he lifted his head. “Still sensitive?”

“Yes, so don’t even think about it.” Hazy, desire drugged words.

Moving his hand, he smoothed it down her leg instead, teasing his fingers over the soft skin at the back of her knee. “Hmm.” It was a pleasure all its own to pull out of her tight sheath, especially when her lips parted in a wordless murmur of reluctance.

Pleased with every single thing about her, he flipped her onto her stomach before she could object and slid right back in to the hilt. Her moan was deep, her hands fisting on the sheets. He knew she’d liked it—he could feel her pleasure in every delicate tremor of her internal muscles. “At my mercy,” he said, bracing himself on one arm as he ran the other along the curve of her spine.

Her hair, that silky ruby red fire, tangled with his hand, made him think of the darker curls between her legs. Body humming with remembered pleasure, he flexed his cock inside of her, felt her roll up toward him. It caused his entire body to throb. So he did it again. She responded.

It was a long, lazy loving this time, filled with hot scents and the quiet murmur of lovers lost in each other.

 

 

LARA
straightened her hair in the mirror for the thousandth time and checked in with Lucy via the comm.

“Don’t worry,” the young nurse told her. “I’ve got everything covered. And I know you’re only next door if we have an emergency.”

“Sing-Liu—”

“Is fast asleep, her mate curled up around her. Take advantage of this time—you won’t have any free time soon if things go the way everyone thinks they will.”

Knowing the nurse was right, she nodded and signed off. Then she slid her hands down the front of her simple black wrap-around dress, tucking her curls behind her ears, knowing they’d pop right back out, and called her best friend, Ava. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous, hot, and delicious.”

Lara’s lips twitched. “Thanks.”

Ava’s eyes turned solemn. “He came to you, Lara, so the man’s earned brownie points in my book, but it doesn’t alter who he is.”

“I’m not so sure,” Lara murmured. “I see beyond the shield now, Ava, and the man I see? He’s capable of giving me everything I need and more.” She had to hope, to believe that she could get Walker to see that, too.

“In that case,” her best friend said with a wide smile, “lock the door and kiss his brains out.”

Lara pressed her hands to her stomach at the idea of it. “I better go. He’ll be on time.”

He was.

She drank in the sight of him as she opened the door. “Hi.” Dressed in jeans and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves folded back to the elbows, he looked calm and contained and distant. She wanted to muss him up so badly she had to curl her fingers into her palms to restrain the urge.

Entering when she stepped back, he closed the door behind himself. His eyes lingered on her face, on her curls, before sweeping down the front of her dress, back up. “Why are we watching a movie, Lara?”

“I—it’s what people do on a date?”

“Do you want to do that?”

Unable to read anything on that calm face, in those steady eyes, she said, “We’re alone. We can do whatever we want.”

“In that case, I’d like to kiss you.” Reaching out, he curved his hand around the side of her neck.

“Oh, well . . .” Her lips parted of their own accord, and when he dipped his head, she could do nothing but stand on tiptoe, her hands tight on his shoulders.

He raised his head far too soon. “The sofa will work better,” he murmured and lifting her into his arms, carried her to the seat.

She found herself sitting on his lap moments later, one arm around his neck, the bottom part of her dress having split to reveal a dangerous length of thigh. It might’ve embarrassed her, except that Walker’s eyes were trained on that bared flesh, and all she could think was that she’d die if he didn’t put one of those big, capable hands on her.

“I,” he said, tugging the two parts of the dress farther apart, “don’t know much about intimacy.”

“No?” It came out husky. “You’re doing just fine.” So fine her heart was going to beat out of her chest at any minute.

“Do I have permission to touch you, Lara?”

Of course he’d ask. He was Walker. He took nothing for granted. “Any and all skin privileges you want,” she whispered, wanting no mistakes on that score.

Light green eyes met hers for a blazing instant before he closed the callused roughness of his hand over her calf, ran it up to cup the back of her knee. “So soft.”

Shivering, she reached down to tug at his hand. “It’s sensitive.”