Protecting the Wolf's Mate (Blood Moon Brotherhood 3)

“To William. I know.” His nod was tight. “I know. And I will help you.” His hand gripped her chin.

She shook her head. “It was my promise.”

“As much as I want to tear him to pieces for what he’s done to you, I won’t take that from you.” His gaze pierced hers before he released her. “Let me help you. Whatever you need.”

He meant it. Naked and glorious, his hands hot on her skin, the ferocity of his words—his gaze—chased away any lingering guilt or shame she and her wolf were grappling with. She wasn’t alone anymore. If she hunted, she’d have a partner.

He brushed the hair from her temple and leaned forward to breathe her in. The simple action that revealed so much. “What do you need?”

Her wolf responded. His scent. His touch. His taste. Her wolf had very definite ideas about what they needed. And, this time, she agreed. “Now? You,” she whispered, tilting her head back for his mouth. She welcomed the crush of his lips on her, the taste of his skin, and urgency in his kiss. His fingers traced the outer swell of her breast, cradling the full weight in his palm as his thumb teased the tip into a hardened peak. She arched back in offering.

He growled as his mouth captured her nipple. Hot and wet, his mouth devoured the sensitive skin. It was heaven. One breast, then the next, he licked and sucked until she was panting in his hold. He guided her back onto the bed, the magic of his mouth never leaving her body. On and on, he sucked and nipped until her body arched and swayed into him.

She was just as hungry. The hard ridges of his chest and abdomen. The balls of his shoulder. Each rise and valley needed touching, kissing, exploring. The dip of his hips and swell of his ass. Her nails raked just enough to have him arching against her. The long, thick evidence of his arousal pressed against her belly. She parted for him.

He slid deep, tearing a moan from them both. “Mine,” he whispered as he bent forward to kiss her.

Her laugh was cut short by the strength of his thrust. Over and over, he drove into her—claiming her as his. The feel of him, big and thick and heavy, drove her into a frenzy. He lingered just long enough to tease her, nudging the bundle of nerves, coaxing her release, then sliding back. Bliss and the sweetest torture. He could do this for hours. She hoped he would. Her hands stroked the length of his back, marveling at the power of his body. Without the crisp shirts and starched slacks, he was primal perfection. All hers.

“Look at me,” he ground out.

She couldn’t look away. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, each breath more ragged than the last—he was holding back, driving her crazy, for her pleasure. She was close, so close. The friction and pressure. The heat in his gaze. The brush of his thumb and forefingers against her rock-hard nipple. She moaned, her fingers and nails biting into the curve of his ass.

His lips brushed hers, his tongue sweeping the seam of her lips, and she was spinning and falling toward her release. Her body bowed, stiffening, clenching around him as wave after wave of undiluted pleasure washed over every nerve.

He smiled, his hands brushing her hair from her forehead as he powered into her. Faster and harder, his teeth grazed her nipple, sucked the curve of her neck, while his hands lifted her hips. She moaned, his grip tilting her up, taking him deeper. She was coming again, so hard and fast she cried out over and over. Her lungs ached and her body throbbed, and his rhythm never slowed.

A growl ripped from his throat, low and raw. She shuddered with the power of it. He stiffened, holding her in place as his frame shook with his climax. Watching him come was liberating.

Because he was her mate. Her wolf had craved him like no other. Now, even satisfied, the craving lingered.

His gaze held hers, searching, piercing, before his body left hers. The absence of him was acute. Her wolf didn’t like it, demanding she roll into his side, demanding she place her hand on his chest—over his heart.

She didn’t. She and the wolf were partners. And right now, she, not the wolf, wasn’t sure what to make of this man.

Hollis was man bent on denying his wolf. A man who would choose to eradicate their species from the planet. This is the man her wolf chose? Her gaze wandered, exploring the hard curves and planes of his incredible body. It—he—was an incredible specimen of pure masculinity. From the slight sheen of sweat that covered his chest to his tantalizing scent assaulting her senses, he held a power over her.

Because he was her mate.

His hair fell forward onto his forehead as he lay at her side. He lay facing her, one large hand gripping her shoulder and pulling her onto her side—to face him. This new Hollis was far more assertive. More aggressive. Part of her, the wolf especially, welcomed his strength and domination. But the other part, the one who had been alone and guarded for so long, bristled from his familiarity and confidence.

“You look pissed.” One copper brow rose.

“Do I?” Was she?

“Ready to rip my throat out.” The corner of his mouth cocked up, making her insides clench delightfully.

She would never hurt him. No. Since the idiot refused to connect with his wolf, she’d have to protect him. “I have no plans to rip out your throat,” she murmured, her gaze fixing on the column of his neck. His pulse beat steadily. She wanted to kiss the thrum under the skin. To taste his skin. It was maddening. “I’ll make no promises about biting.”

His jaw muscle leaped, his thumb tracing along her lower lip. “If that was supposed to scare me, it doesn’t.” He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her against him so that his throbbing erection was pressed against her stomach.

She stared up at him, startled. Already? The very hard, pulsing promise of further orgasms said yes. “It’s your wolf, wanting to forge a solid bond,” she whispered, her body ready—hungry.

His eyes darkened and his hand gripped her thigh, hooking her leg around his hip. “Forging a bond?” He stared down at her, smiling. “I’ll forge all fucking night long.”

Her laugh broke off at the stroke of him, sliding deep inside her.

Chapter Fourteen