“More?” she asked. “Of me?”
“Tell me to stop, Olivia. If you don’t tell me, I can’t.”
She shook her head.
His hands tangled in her hair, tugging her head back as his lips parted hers and he pressed her against the wall. Wicked, teasing, and stroking, his tongue stole her breath and left her on unsteady legs. It was good, molten and alive—he made her feel alive.
She tugged his shirt free from the waist of his jeans, her fingertips sliding across the thick muscles of his broad back. Her nails scored his skin as his teeth nipped her earlobe. He arched into her touch, his hands clasping her hips and lifting her against him.
Instinct took over, guiding her hands and mouth. Wrapping her legs around his waist made him groan. Sucking the skin at the base of his neck made him shudder. And kissing him, his breath and tongue teasing her into a frenzy, left them both panting.
They were moving, then, bouncing off the couch, crashing into the coffee table, finally stumbling down the hall to their room. She felt his smile against her mouth and bit his bottom lip. He groaned, kicking the door shut behind them. His hands were in her hair, bowing her head back. “Dammit,” he whispered against her neck.
His hunger was empowering, stirring her confidence—her wolf’s confidence—and making her bold. She yanked his shirt up and off, running her hands down his chest. She watched his stomach muscles quiver at the stroke of her finger—tracing the dark line of hair down his rock-hard abs to the button of his jeans. He was all sculpted muscle, reacting to her. She inspected every edge and angle, bending her head to kiss his skin, marveling that this big, powerful man wanted her.
“Olivia,” he ground out, leaning forward while she clung to him.
The mattress sank beneath her, his weight heavy and delicious. Nothing compared to having him crushed close to her, nothing. Learning his body, hearing his muffled moan, his growl—he consumed her. The urge to touch him, to taste every inch of exposed skin, made everything else fade away.
His hands slid along her sides, forcing her arms up and her shirt off. His gaze brushed the line of her shoulder, dip of her collarbone, and valley between her breasts. Her pants slid down her hips, tugged free by the man above her. Watching his reaction to her was mesmerizing. He was just as lost in her as she was in him. Maybe.
He slid to her side, leaning across her to kiss her stomach. His tongue dipped into her belly button and licked its way to her hip. Teeth nipped, lips sucked, and his hand brushed between her legs. She opened for him, her hunger more powerful than embarrassment or hesitation. It was a physical craving.
He traced the scar on her thigh and the uneven ridge from the bear. His kiss was soft and sweet. The scar ended above her knee and began again at her ankle. When Mal had bitten her, he’d been careful to let go of her thigh. But when the bear turned desperate, he’d dragged her by the ankle, leaving starburst puncture marks with radiating lines. Seeing her body so mangled wasn’t easy. The scars looked old and faded, but they were still new to her. And yet, Mal showered every imperfection with tenderness.
She propped herself on her elbows so she could see him.
When their eyes locked, tenderness gave way to lust. He kissed his way up her leg, sucked the sensitive skin behind her knee, and her hands fisting in the comforter. Her inner thigh quivered as his teeth rasped her skin. His hands slid up, stroking her inner thighs, higher and higher until she was holding her breath.
He smiled before turning his attention to the throbbing bundle of nerves between her legs. Working his tongue against her, he had her whimpering. Over and over, his slow, lingering strokes made her body shake. “You taste so fucking good,” he growled. Two fingers slid deep, dragging a moan from the back of her throat. “And you feel even better.” His words had her tightening around him. His broken curse only made her hotter. Tongue and fingers, one stroked, then the other.
Without thought, she rocked against him.
She fell back on the mattress, her hands tangling in his thick hair. All she wanted was this, the building pulse that set her on fire and drove her out of her mind. He did this to her. He’d always do this to her.
Forever.
A climax tore through her, so hard and fast all she could do was hold on. His tongue didn’t slow, the push of his fingers kept pace, until she’d melted into the comforter. It was magic, his breath on her skin sending sharp aftershocks shooting down her nerves.
When she opened her eyes, Mal sat between her knees breathing hard and fast.
“Mal.” She didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted. But he knew.
He rolled a condom on his impressive erection and braced himself over her. He rested his forehead against hers, his brown eyes searching, and kissed her. The stubble of his chin, the nip of his teeth, and the stroke of his tongue led her back into sensation.
He gripped her hips, holding her still. “Look at me.”
She did. In his eyes, she was beautiful. Wanted. Cherished. And with one thrust, he’d buried himself deep and made the world fall away. His groan echoed hers. He was big, stretching her tight and full. His gaze met hers, easing her, stirring her. Discomfort melted away, leaving something hot and demanding in its place.
She wanted him to claim her, to leave his mark on her and seal their bond. Loving Mal was easy. Accepting he loved her the same was not. But here, now, it was hard to deny it. Her wolf reveled in it.
A bond. Physical and beyond.
He thrust into her slowly, his brown eyes burning into hers. Maybe it was the slide of his buttocks against her thighs or the bite of his fingers gripping her hips to hold her close. Or his scent. Or the brush of his chest against her aching nipples. Maybe it was all of it together. Her senses focused, every touch and sigh rolling over her already inflamed body.
Her nails bit into his back as his hands lifted her hips. Deeper now, tearing a growl from deep in his chest. She couldn’t breathe at all.
He moved deliberately, each stroke controlled—a battle he was losing. He was being careful with her, and it was costing him. “Olivia?” It was a whisper.