Blood Wolf (Vintage Collection)

“Mmm,” she said. “You taste so good, Damian.”

He pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He inhaled again and groaned. “And you smell even better.”

Suzanne giggled. What was that? Suzanne Wood didn’t giggle. But there was no other way to describe the girlish laugh that escaped her. “Why do you like my smell so much?”

“Mmm. I don’t know. But I can’t get enough of it. Of you.”

She giggled again. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you like my scent?”

“I don’t know that you have one.”

“I do. Everyone does. Here.” He cupped her face and led her to his neck. “Smell me.”

“Damian—”

“Come on. Just try it.”

“Okay.” She buried her face in his neck and inhaled. Cloves again. And musk. Musky man. A little salt. Did salt even have a smell? And wood. Sandalwood or cedarwood. Maybe some patchouli? She was grasping at straws. It was indescribable. It was just…Damian. And it was fantastic. She inhaled again, pressed her lips to the curve of his neck, and kissed him gently. Tiny butterfly kisses. His whispered moans fueled her desire, and she nipped at him, gentle little love bites, and laved him with her tongue. And she made little noises. Almost like a purr. Who was this strange woman?

“You like?” Damian asked huskily.

“I like,” she said. “I like a lot.”

“See, I have a smell.”

“Oh yes, you do.” She inhaled again and licked the pulse point on his throat. “You smell wonderful.”

“Mmm hmm. See what I mean? You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

“Oh, Damian.”

“It’s true, Suzanne. You’ll understand soon enough.”

“I want to. Really I do. But in the meantime”—she kissed his chiseled jaw line—“shouldn’t we get to know each other a little better?”

He smiled against her face. “I’ve no objection to that.”

“Good. Why don’t you take me out on a date? Or something.”

“I suppose we could. How about tonight?”

“Works for me.”

“All right. And in the meantime, we can spend the afternoon making slow, sweet love.”

“Um, Damian?”

“Hmm?” He ran his tongue along the outside of her ear and then dipped it inside. She shivered.

“Don’t you think we should get to know each other better before we, you know.”

“I know all I need to know. You’re mine.” He nuzzled her neck. “And I want you. Need you. Now.”

“Please—”

“Now, Suzanne.”

He held her tightly against him and found her mouth with his. Swiftly he moved her under his body and covered her, his arousal apparent against her thigh. She couldn’t help returning his kiss, though she struggled beneath him.

Tearing her mouth away, she panted and gasped. “Damian. Please, Damian. Listen to me.”

“What?” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, his now-familiar jade irises swirling with need.

“Just when I start to feel like I want this, you get all domineering and aggressive. Why can’t we get to know each other first?”

“I need you,” he said adamantly.

“I know.” Suzanne tried to make her voice soothing. “I think I need you too. I do need you, although I don’t have a clue as to why. But I’m not comfortable sleeping with someone I’ve known for less than twenty-four hours. Try to understand.”

“Please, mo cridhe.”

Her heart melted as he gazed at her. His wavy hair fell into his eyes. His lips were dark and swollen from their kisses, and she imagined them traveling over every inch of her body. She sighed. Why fight it? She wanted this as much as he did. “Can we still have a date later?”

His beautiful mouth curled into a knowing grin. “Of course, mo cridhe. I’d do anything for you. One day, you’ll know that.”

“I know that now.”

“One day, you’ll believe it.”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s the difference”—he brushed his lips over hers and gently sucked at them—“between your mind”—he swirled his tongue into the shallow cove of her ear and softly blew into it—“and your heart.”

“Oh.” Here she was again, about to climax from words alone. This man affected her in so many ways. She couldn’t wait to uncover every one of them. “You win, Damian.” She touched his cheek and gently caressed it with her thumb. “Let’s make love.”

He groaned as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, feasting on her. She responded with lustful enthusiasm, their lips and teeth clashing together. She arched her body into his and thrust upward against his erection, imagining it plunging into her.

“Suze?”

Suzanne turned her head and broke the kiss with a soft smack. There stood Isabella, blond and beautiful, framed by the wide open door.

“Suze,” she said again. “Uh, is there anything you want to tell me?”

12

Damian’s head popped up, and he turned toward Isabella. “God a’mighty, did you think of knocking, lass?”

Suzanne blinked into Damian’s blazing eyes. Again, his anger was palpable. She felt it as if it were coming from her own body.

“It’s not her fault,” she said to the man still lying atop her. “I left the door open.”