Blood Wolf (Vintage Collection)

“Damian?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong with your back?” Suzanne pulled away from his embrace and climbed over him to the other side of the bed.

“Oh!” She clasped her hand to her mouth. What she saw was both beautiful and terrible. Deep scratches and oozing scabs knifed through a large tattoo of a black and silver wolf howling at the moon. Despite the mess, Suzanne couldn’t help but stare at the tattoo. The wolf’s green eyes looked almost…human. “What happened to you?”

“It’s nothing.” Damian turned over, hiding his back from her.

“It most certainly is not nothing,” she said. “Who did this to you?”

“It’s not your concern.”

“Of course it’s my concern. If you expect me to share your bed, I expect something in return. I expect your honesty.”

“I am being honest. I’m telling you that it’s not your concern.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“Does this have anything to do with what happened to your hands?”

“Enough! There will be no more talk of this!” He pulled her on top of him and thrust his erection against her body. “I’ve waited long enough. I’ll have you now.”

Suzanne shrugged. She couldn’t give into his demands, no matter how much her body craved it. “I won’t sleep with you. You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I have no intention of hurting you. I’ll get you ready first.”

“No. Please. No!” She scrambled off the bed and into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She turned on the faucet to hide her soft sobs, splashed some water on her face, and then looked around for her robe. It wasn’t there.

“Suzanne?” Damian’s dispirited husky voice cut through the wooden door that separated them.

His agony touched her, but Suzanne didn’t answer.

“Love, talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“I’m sorry. I just want you so badly…” His forehead thunked against the door. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

The anguish in his voice was unmistakable. Despite being terrified he might take her against her will, Suzanne felt an uncontrollable urge to go to him, to comfort him as he had comforted her last night. Her hand levitated over the crystal doorknob for half a minute, and then she grabbed it and turned.

He stood against the wall, naked and beautiful, his ebony-lashed eyes tormented with sorrow. “Forgive me.” He held out his arms.

As Suzanne went to him in a haze, she had a sense of watching herself from the ceiling. She saw herself tilt her head and offer him her mouth. He took it gently and wrapped his strong arms around her curvaceous body. He caressed her shoulders, her arms, her back, her buttocks. She watched him kiss her lips, her cheek, her neck and shoulders. As his mouth descended to her breast, she smiled.

But when his tongue touched her nipple, she careened back into her body with full force, and a fiery shock slammed through her.

“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Oh, Damian.”

“I know, love.” He pressed his mouth to her other breast. “I want you, too.”

“This is insane. We can’t. We shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.”

“It’ll be okay. I promise.” He bent his head and sucked her nipple harder.

She threaded her fingers through his silky hair as her body undulated against him. Nectar slid from her and dripped down the inside of her thighs. Her womb throbbed. As if he could read her mind, Damian reached down to her mound and laced through her thick bush to find the swollen nub. She gasped as he flicked it, rubbed his hand in her wetness, and circled her clit.

“Oh God.” Suzanne closed her eyes and leaned back, arching into him. “Oh, God. Oh my God!”

“Come,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Come for me, mo cridhe.”

Suzanne’s body burst into flames as throbbing heat enveloped her. Her mons spasmed against his hand. The electric current spread into her legs and belly, to her arms, to her head. Even her eyelids tingled as she panted and thrust against him.

“Damian,” she whimpered. “My God, Damian.”

He lifted her in his arms, carried her to the bed, and laid her upon the soft mattress. Embarrassed, she turned her head into the pillow.

He gently pulled her face back toward him. “Look at me, Suzanne. Don’t force your eyes from mine. We belong together.”

She blinked, and a lone tear fell.

“What is it?”

“I—” She gulped. “My fiancé. He never made me feel like that.”

Damian’s green eyes smoldered. “Then he didn’t know how to love you properly.”

Words failed Suzanne. She simply nodded. She had no doubt that Damian knew exactly how to love her.

“Please, love. Let me.” He explored her bare skin, teasing and caressing.

She no longer had the strength to resist. Her body—and her heart—ached for him. “Yes. Go ahead.”

Damian kissed her body, running his tongue and lips over every inch of her skin. He teased her nipples and sucked them, tugging and biting until she arched and moaned, begging for more. He licked her belly, her navel, her hips, and gently parted her legs. Crouching between them, he buried his nose in her triangle of curls and inhaled deeply.