Blood Wolf (Vintage Collection)

“Your scent is like springtime,” he said. “Springtime, after the last snow melts, as the flowers push up through the earth and the leaves bud on the trees. Everything is green. Green and fresh and reborn.” He inhaled again. “You smell alive. So alive. I’ll never tire of your scent, mo cridhe.”

“You don’t think I’m too…”

“Hmm?” His face was still buried in her curls.

“Hairy.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m too hairy down there.”

His head popped up. “What?”

Suzanne turned into the pillow. “You heard me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“My fiancé. He used to—”

“Never mention him again.” Damian did not yell, nor was his voice stern, but its tone left no doubt he meant business.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You don’t upset me. You upset yourself when you speak of him, and that upsets me. He has no place in our bedroom, mo cridhe.”

“I—”

“Besides, your hair is beautiful. Every part of you is beautiful. The hair on your head is thick and strong and lovely. So of course, you will have an abundance of hair on the rest of your body. Look at me. I’m the same way.”

“Yes, but, you’re a man.”

“So?”

“Damian, you know what I mean.”

He tilted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Do you still have feelings for your fiancé?”

“Of course not.” Suzanne turned away. “And he’s not my fiancé.”

“That’s how you’ve referred to him every time you’ve brought him up.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Old habits are hard to break, I guess. We only ended our relationship a few weeks ago. But no, I don’t have feelings for him. Not anymore.”

“Then why do you keep mentioning him?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“I do. I think you do have feelings for him. I think he hurt you badly. But there’s one thing you need to realize.”

“What?”

“You’re mine now, and I won’t tolerate you talking about him.” Again, his voice wasn’t stern, but he clearly expected to be obeyed. “I won’t tolerate you even thinking about him. Is that understood?”

“Just who the hell do you think you are?”

Damian didn’t answer. Instead, he buried his face between her legs and began to suck her. Relentlessly. No teasing and caressing. He dived right in.

“Oh my God.” Suzanne groaned. It was good. So damned good.

Then a knock on the door.

“Shit.”

“Tell whoever it is to go away.” Damian’s voice was muffled as he continued to lick her.

Suzanne said nothing as the knocking continued.

“Suze?”

“It’s Isabella,” Suzanne said. “My cousin.”

“Get rid of her.”

“Damian.” She tried to move, but he held her down. “Damian!”

“I won’t stop. I need you. I need this.”

She gasped as his tongue circled her clit. A few seconds more, and—

“Suze, open up. It’s me!”

“Damian.”

No reply. Her orgasm was imminent. God, I want to come. But Isabella wasn’t leaving. She took a deep breath and then forcefully scooted backward and broke the suction of Damian’s mouth.

“Just a minute, Bell.” Suzanne jumped off the bed and began rummaging around for something, anything, to cover her body.

“Damn it!” Damian’s bellow vibrated in the still air of the room.

Suzanne turned to him. His green irises swirled around his black pupils.

He left the bed and went into the bathroom, slamming the door. Suzanne heard the rush of the shower.

Quickly, she pulled on some sweats and opened the door, just barely. Isabella appeared well rested and radiant. “Morning, Bell.”

“Are you okay? I swear I heard a guy in here.”

Suzanne gulped. “A guy?” She shook her head, hoping like hell her cheeks weren’t flushing. “Of course not.”

Isabella raised her eyebrows and let out a short huff. “If you say so. It’s ten. Surely you’ve gotten enough sleep by now. Let’s do something today.”

Suzanne cleared her throat. “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. How about we go into town? I’m dying to explore.”

Suzanne bit her lip. She had no desire to return to the village where she’d nearly been raped. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun. Get showered and dressed. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Suzanne closed the door, frowning, as Damian stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. His hair was a mass of dripping black waves. She went to him and pushed back a stray curl. Cold. Ice cold. He had taken a cold shower.

“Oh, Damian, I’m sorry.”

“What did she want?”

“She’s coming back in half an hour. She and I are going into town.”

“No.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“You’re not safe out there.”

“Come on. It’s broad daylight.”

He cocked his head, obviously thinking and then put on his jeans, leaving his boxers and shirt on the floor. “Fine. Go. I’ll stay here and move my things back into this room.”

He couldn’t possibly still be on that kick. “Um, about you moving in. Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

He opened the bedroom door, his skin still wet and glistening from the shower, the muscles in his bare chest flexed.