by S. K. Yule
Georgia had never been so astonished in her life.
Yeah, Kish had told her he was a lycan, and she guessed on some level she believed him. But apparently, a bigger part of her hadn’t. The wild smel she’d never been able to fuly place now came out strong. He’d been teling the truth the whole time. He was a werewolf.
Her hand shook as she stroked his fur. He was huge. She was sure his back would come to her hip if she was standing. Emotions hit her from al directions.
Fear. Fascination. Amazement. Awe. Excitement.
Intimidation. But al of the emotions suddenly fused together and turned into curiosity. She realized at once she wasn’t scared of Kish or that he’d do anything to her. She was only apprehensive about the situation as a whole. After al, who wouldn’t be?
She kneeled down to the floor and took his head between her hands. She ran her fingers over his ears, face, nose, and laughed when he gave her a quick lick. He stood perfectly stil as she felt her way down his neck and along his body. The muscles on the wolf were much like the muscles on the man, hard, wel defined, and powerful.
“You’re so big. I didn’t realize wolves got this huge.”
“They don’t normally. Lycans are on average quite a bit larger than your average wolf.”
“My average wolf? There is nothing average about wolves, or you for that matter.” He tensed under her fingers and she tsked. “Stop taking everything I say as an insult. Being average isn’t al it’s cracked up to be. In this case, you not being average translates to you being extraordinary. You are absolutely gorgeous,” she whispered before laying her head against his shoulder and breathing deeply.
She squeaked when suddenly the wolf was gone and hard, naked man was under her. She sprawled on top of him and the towel that was wrapped around her did little to hide the huge arousal pressing against her bely. She wiggled to get closer and he growled.
“I like it when you do that,” she whispered.
“That’s good,” he whispered back, “because I wil be doing it a lot around you.” He tightened his arms around her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Get back in the shower with me?”
She smiled. “I don’t know,” she teased him. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
He stood and picked her up. “You aren’t going to bed without me, and I need a shower first.”
He held her while he turned the water on then tugged the towel from her and stepped under the spray with her stil in his arms. She wiggled against him again.
“If you don’t stop doing that, Georgia, I’m going to have to shove you up against the wal and bury myself between your pretty thighs.”
She stopped and nearly moaned when fire shot between her legs. “What are you waiting for?”
He bent and took her mouth in a lazy, tantalizing kiss. His tongue dipped inside, tasted, then retreated several times before he broke the kiss and let her slide down his wet body.
“No. I want to make love to you properly in bed.”
He nipped her bottom lip.
The heat and pressure built between her thighs, and she was growing impatient. She wanted him, and her body wasn’t interested in anything proper at the moment. Al it and she was interested in was having Kish where she ached for him most . . . buried deep inside her.
“But—”
“Wash my back?”
He turned around before shoving a washrag in her hand. She smiled. Fine. He wanted to play games?
She could play games too.
She soaped the rag up and slid it over his left shoulder, then over his right. Slowly, she trailed the cloth over the wide span of his back. Her fingers danced over him, finding every indention that outlined each perfectly sculpted muscle. She paid particular attention to the indentation over his spine just above his butt. The man was gorgeous. She put the rag down and cupped hands ful of water from the spray then rinsed the soap from his back.
She stepped closer to him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his right shoulder. He tensed as she trailed her lips over the scars marring his otherwise flawless skin.
“Don’t.” She spoke softly against him.
He sighed, and she continued her exploration. Her fingers traced every line of every scar while her lips kissed each one in turn. If anything, the scars made him more attractive to her. He’d suffered horribly, but had survived and become a strong, admirable man.
“These”—she traced another cluster of scars low on his back—“are not ugly to me. Scars do not define who you are. And those who judge you for having them are not people worth having in your life.”
She pushed gently on his right shoulder until he turned around. She stood on tiptoe, reached up, and cupped his face. “You are one hel of a sexy man, Kish, and these”—she again traced a line of scars on his right cheek—”do not detract from that sexiness one teeny, tiny bit.”
She moaned when his arm wrapped around her lower back and his mouth slammed down on hers.
His tongue dove into her mouth, tasting her, and she curled her tongue around his while looping her arms around his neck. He was so tal she nearly dangled, but she didn’t care. She’d dangle from his neck without complaint if it meant he’d continue kissing her like this.
Butterflies danced in her bely and heat built between her thighs. She needed him, wanted him, and was going to have him. When he abruptly broke the kiss, she cried out at the loss of his mouth.
The water shut off and he scooped her up once again. “I told you, I’m going to make love to you properly in bed,” his voice rumbled.
“Then hurry up and take me to bed because I can’t wait any longer, Kish.”
He opened the door and turned left down the halway. She found it hard to care that they were both naked and wet and that Henry or Joey might possibly see them. As luck had it, they made it to Kish’s bedroom unnoticed. He closed the door behind them and took three steps before placing her on his bed.
He blanketed her with his imposing frame, but she didn’t feel trapped or uncomfortable. His weight— which he was careful to keep most of off her—was comforting.
At that moment, she felt as if nothing in the world could harm her. She placed her hand against his chest and let her fingers sift through the springy sprinkling of hair.
“I’m glad you don’t shave this,” she said as she gave a gentle tug.
“Yeah? I thought the smooth look was in right now.” He placed a lingering kiss on her colarbone.
“Maybe, but it’s not my preference. I like a man to b e natural. A smooth chest, in my opinion, is not natural for a man.”
He nibbled lower, lower until his lips found her nipple. She arched against him and tangled the fingers of her other hand in his hair, urging him closer.
“You have the most perfect breasts,” he said against her before nipping then licking her nipple.
She moaned. “You have the most perfect mouth,”
she purred. She’d never been so wanton in her life.
He brought out urges in her she never knew existed.
She wanted to rub against him like a cat in heat, wanted to imprint him with her scent so everyone would know he was hers.
He sucked the nipple he’d been paying homage to into his mouth and curled his tongue around the turgid peak, released it, then repeated the sweet torture.
“You taste like honey, sweetheart. I could kiss your breasts and pretty nipples for hours, but there is some place else I’m dying to taste you.”
She sucked in a breath when his mouth left her breast, and the cool air hit her already stiff nipple, wet from his mouth. He kissed his way down her bely, laved her navel, then kissed her hip before trailing hot kisses over her thigh and to the tight curls of her sex.
Her breath caught in her throat as his tongue flicked over her clit then licked a slow path up her wet labia.
“Mmm. Honey here too,” he growled against her before giving her another slow lick.
“Kish!”
His tongue dove deep inside her a
nd the pressure grew low in her bely until she thought she’d explode.
“What, sweetheart?”
“Please.” She clutched at the blanket on either side of her as his tongue flicked her clit then dove deep once again.
“Please what?”
“I want to touch you too!” She groaned through clenched teeth.
“You can touch me anytime you want, sweetheart, but this time you have to wait until I’m finished here.”
“But—oh!”
Her orgasm hit her hard and spasms rocked her body. Her hips bucked against him as he continued eating her, licking her. She thought she might pass out from the sheer pleasure he was giving her with his mouth. She shuddered as his wicked tongue coaxed every last wave of her release from her, and she lay in a boneless heap under him.
She panted as he climbed back up her body and settled between her thighs, but she had other ideas about what was going to happen next.
“Uh-huh.”
He kissed her, his tongue stroking deeply, tangling with her own. “Uh-huh, what?”
“My turn.” She shoved against his shoulders until he roled to his back, taking her with him.
She now straddled his lower abdomen while his long, thick cock nestled between her butt cheeks.
She bent and kissed his shoulder then worked her way across his chest to his nipple where she curled her tongue over the tiny peak. He groaned and she smiled against him.
“You taste pretty good yourself. I wouldn’t say like honey, but woodsy and wild.”
“Thank God I don’t taste like honey.” He laughed.
His laugh quickly turned to a low growl as she slid lower down his body. His fingers tangled in her hair and urged her down until her lips touched the tip of his cock. Her tongue snaked out and tasted the slick bead of his pre cum.
“Mmm. Salty.” She smiled against him when he grunted in response.
She circled him with one hand while placing the other against his rock hard abs to support herself.
She’d always heard the expression washboard stomach, but until this moment, never realy understood the ful meaning of it. Kish was one big, hard, sexy, predatory male, and he was al hers at the moment.
“You are so sexy.”
“Sweetheart, there is nothing sexy about my mangled body.”
She took the tip of him in her mouth then further down her throat before sucking hard as she released him.
“I beg to differ. Don’t argue with me, Kish.”
She licked the head of his cock before taking him down her throat again, and smiled when he responded, “Yes, ma’am” in a strangled voice.
He gently guided her over him with the fingers stil tunneled in her hair. She took him down her throat as deep as she could and stroked him with her hand near the base before cupping his bals and repeating the motion. His hips roled under her in encouragement, but he was careful not to be too rough. She loved that he was careful with her while holding nothing back in return. He was not one who shied away from showing his enthusiasm in the bedroom. She liked that because each grunt, growl, and gentle guidance of his fingers showed her exactly what he liked and told her how much he was enjoying what she was doing to him.
She increased the rhythm, and his breathing grew rough and uneven. Within seconds, he tugged at her, but she continued tonguing, licking, and sucking him.
He had, in an instant, become her favorite Popsicle, and she wanted to wring every last tasty drop from him.
When he yanked her up by the armpits and roled her under him face down, she cried out at the loss of him in her mouth.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I need to be inside you when I come.”
He looped one arm under her bely and puled her ass up. Her body wept uncontrolably for him even though moments before he’d given her the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life. She was dancing on the precipice once again, and her inner muscles clenched and unclenched in anticipation of his welcome invasion.
“Hurry, Kish!”
He nudged her knees wider and nestled between them. He reached down and guided the tip of his thick erection to her slick opening. He rubbed the tip over her creamy slit and carefuly slid the head inside.
“So big,” she moaned against the bed.
“And you’re so damned tiny,” he rasped.
He framed her hips and pushed inside another inch.
Her muscles clamped around him and a fine sheen of sweat covered her skin. She thrashed her head back and forth. She needed to take al of him, but she was beginning to wonder if he would fit in this position.
He bent over her and kissed her spine. “Easy, sweetheart. We’l take this slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t think this is going to work, Kish,” she gasped when he slid in another inch.
Her body stretched around him almost painfuly, but at the same time, her muscles clenched around him, drawing him deeper. Her hips strained back of their own accord, her body instinctively reaching for what it craved, but he stiled her movement.
He leaned further over her and nibbled on her neck, then her ear, then captured her mouth in a possessive kiss. Their tongues tangled and she strained against him, but he easily held her stil. She moaned when he nipped her bottom lip then soothed the sting away with his tongue.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he growled deep.
Just as she was about to ask him what in the world he possibly had to be sorry for, his grip eased on her hips and he thrust hard. His cock squeezed through her tight sheath as her body both resisted and welcomed him. He swalowed the scream that tore from her throat and kissed her again. As he drank her cries, her body grew accustomed to the fulness of his cock, and she pushed her ass against him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. More than okay.” She pressed against him again and smiled when he growled.
“Easy.”
“I don’t want easy. I want you.”
She reached under her body and between her legs until she found his bals and cupped them before gently squeezing them.
He reared up and grasped her hips once again before easing out of her. Only the tip of his arousal remained inside her. Before she had time to protest, he slammed back home, stealing the breath from her lungs. The thick head of his cock plowed through her tightness, dragging over every nerve ending, igniting them to fiery life. The pleasure was so intense she thought she might explode or black out or both. Her muscles clenched around him, strangling his length.
When he’d taken her against the door earlier, she hadn’t thought he could fil her any fuler. She’d been wrong. While this position had caused her some brief pain, it was also now proving to give her pleasure that was so intense it threatened to tear her apart.
“Holy hel,” he grunted as he puled out and thrust deep again.
Pressure built inside her with every stroke of his magnificent cock, and tears pooled in her eyes from the sheer beauty and overpowering joy of the moment. This would be a memory forever stamped into her brain, a memory nothing, not even time, would have the power to take from her.
He leaned down over her without breaking the rhythm of his thrusts and bit down on her shoulder hard enough to hold her captive under him while he claimed her body, but gentle enough to not break her skin. She wilingly submitted to his predatory dominance and reveled in the pleasure he was giving her with each stroke of his body.
Each surge of his hips, each drive of his cock drove her closer to orgasm. Every cel in her body hummed with energy, every nerve ending sparked with joy. She was about to fal over into the abyss of mind-numbing ecstasy. But this time, she wanted Kish to fal with her.
“Kish,” she gasped.
He puled out and thrust home.
“Come with me. Please,” she begged. “I can’t.”
Thrust. “Wait.” Thrust. “Any longer.”
A low growl vibrated against her shoulder where his teeth were stil clamped. The sound made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck, mad
e something deep inside her respond to the predator in him, and she tumbled over the cliff headfirst.
She cried out against the blanket, the thickness muffling the sound, and he immediately released her shoulder, reared up, slammed home once again, and grunted as his seed shot hot spurts inside her while her muscles clenched and unclenched around him in release.
Four more thrusts and the waves of her orgasm crested and began to ebb. One last thrust and he colapsed beside her before puling her against him.
She snuggled against his chest, the hairs tickling her nose. He slung one leg over her thighs as if to make sure she couldn’t go anywhere, and she smiled. As if she could even walk now since her bones felt as if they had melted away.
He kissed her forehead. “That was incredible.”
“It was better than incredible,” she mumbled drowsily. “It was,” she yawned, “epic.”
“Yes. It was. Good night, sweetheart.” He kissed her on the head again, and she could feel his smile against her skin.
“Night.”
Chapter Twenty
Kish stared down at Georgia. His heart thumped hard, and he ached to claim her. When they’d made love, it had been exactly how she’d put it. Epic. But the wolf in him wanted more, wanted to mark her as his for always, wanted to imprint on her so that everyone would know she belonged to him and only him.
When he’d taken her from behind, her inner muscles clamping around him so hard they’d nearly strangled him, it had taken every ounce of wilpower he possessed to keep from biting through the delicate flesh on her shoulder. He wanted to change her, wanted to bind her to his side forever, but he’d never force it upon anyone, much less someone he loved, without consent.
God, how he wanted to run with her wolf in the forest. She’d make a beautiful lycan, and she’d have her sight. He wanted to give her that more than anything. He yearned to watch her face as she discovered each and every thing with her eyes for the first time. But would she ever alow him to change her?
When he’d revealed his wolf to her in the bathroom, he hadn’t missed the hesitation that had danced over her features. Nor did he miss the fear.
