Werewolf in Alaska way-5

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “I have a favor to ask.” His voice, rasping in the stillness of the bedroom, revealed his burning lust and just how tightly it was leashed. Squeezing her hand, he let go and stepped back.

  “What?” Her reply was breathy with anticipation.

  “When I was in your bedroom after being wounded, I crawled under your bed.”

  “And I wondered why.”

  “The razor. I couldn’t let you shave me. I had a forest run with other werewolves scheduled in San Francisco, and I didn’t want to explain to them why I was shaved.”

  Laughter danced in her eyes. “Oh.”

  “But when I was under the bed, I couldn’t watch you undress.”

  “Is that the request? To watch me take my clothes off?”

  He nodded.

  “Such a simple thing.” Backing away a little more, she nudged off her shoes.

  “Not to me. I’ve imagined you here stripping down because you can hardly wait to show me what I so desperately want to see.”

  “But I’m just an ordinary—”

  “Shh. You’re a goddess. Your skin is like satin. I know that now because I’ve touched you, but somehow I’ve always known.”

  She’d taken hold of her T-shirt hem, but she paused. “I need to do this right.” Releasing her hold on the shirt, she reached behind her back and slid both hands under the shirt to unhook her bra.

  Once it was free, she whipped off both her bra and the shirt in one dramatic motion. He caught his breath. In the kitchen, he’d been too intent on caressing her to really look. Now he did.

  She was lush, ripe, tantalizing almost beyond his ability to control himself. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he imagined swirling his tongue over each of her raspberry-tipped breasts. He would take his time, cup them in his palms, and savor the pebbled texture while she moaned with pleasure.

  But she was not content merely to present her treasures for his viewing. No, she had sweet torture in mind. Sliding her hands up her rib cage, she cradled her bounty, lifting and massaging her breasts for several long seconds.

  She couldn’t know that her massage intensified the sweet aroma of her skin, a powerful trigger for a creature with a heightened sense of smell. Her preference for almond lotion and soap had always drawn him, but now he breathed in her essence, that pheromone-laden scent that was unique to her and the most compelling aphrodisiac he’d encountered in any female, ever.

  His cock swelled in response. He clenched his hands, determined not to grab her like some savage. But with each breath, a red haze of lust threatened to overwhelm his control. When she squeezed her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, he nearly came. The effort not to made him groan.

  Her eyes lit with mischief. “Am I creating the fantasy you had in mind, Jake?”

  “Mm-hm.” Coherent speech had deserted him. He hadn’t counted on her vivid imagination, but he should have after admiring her carving wizardry all these years. She might not have his physical stamina, but she was miles ahead of him in the fantasy department.

  “I’m glad I’m pleasing you.” Slowly moving her hands down her torso, she reached for the fastening on her jeans. She held his gaze as she undid the metal button and inched the zipper down.

  He expected her to wiggle out of the jeans once they were loose enough to slide over her hips. And then . . . then she would be his, every sweet-smelling inch of her. His nostrils flared.

  But instead she slipped one hand under the elastic of her panties and eased it down, down, until . . . dear God, she was pleasuring herself.

  Earthy and primitive, the scent of her arousal was more than he could take. He held his breath to block it. But he had to breathe, and when he did, his heart kicked into overdrive and the crotch of his jeans felt like a vise squeezing his privates.

  She moved her hand faster and with obvious intent as her lips parted and her breathing quickened. Her nipples puckered in response to her impending climax.

  “Don’t come.” He gulped for air and fought the animal instincts that urged him to take her now.

  Her question came out as a short gasp. “Why . . . not?”

  “Because . . .” Wrenching his zipper down, he closed the gap between them and pulled her hand from her panties. Because I’ll pass out or go insane if I have to wait another second. Pushing her jeans to the floor, he lifted one of her legs from the confining denim.

  That was all he needed, one leg free. He backed her against the nearest wall, not even caring which one, knowing only that he needed a surface that wouldn’t give way as he drove into her. At last he could breathe, because at last he could satisfy the pounding need she’d unwittingly escalated beyond all endurance.

  The rich scent of her was a banquet and he was taking his seat at the table. Grasping her sleek bottom in both hands, he lifted her and propped her against the wall.

  “I’m not athletic,” she said breathlessly.

  “That’s okay. I am.” He found her pulsing wet center and surged forward. As he buried his aching cock up to the hilt, he cried out in triumph. Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing.

  She might not be athletic, but she obviously understood the basics of this position. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his shoulders as he began to move. He could have supported her without that extra help, but he was willing to accept it because it allowed him to relax and enjoy the ride.

  And that meant relishing her response when she came, and if he was very lucky, when she came a second time. Once they were both steady, he looked into her eyes. “How’s that?”

  For an answer she tightened her pelvic muscles and squeezed his very happy cock. “How’s that?”

  He closed his eyes for a few seconds while he fought against coming immediately. “Dynamite. Keep that up and this will be over in a jiffy.”

  Her low chuckle was the sexiest laugh he’d ever heard. “What about your famous stamina, big boy?”

  When he opened his eyes, she was smiling at him. “You sabotaged it, you sexy woman.”

  “I wanted to fulfill your fantasy.”

  “You did. And then some.” Later he might tell her how far she’d pushed him without even knowing it. He eased back and slid home again. “What about your fantasy?”

  “This . . .” She gasped as he pulled away and pushed in tight. “This handles it.”

  “Too bad.” He began to pump faster. “I was hoping you’d want another round.”

  “I might. Mm. I just might. You’re very convincing, Jake.”

  He stroked faster as the smell of good sex whirled around them. “I like it when you say my name.”

  “I like your name.” She whimpered and arched her back, allowing him deeper access.

  “Say it again.”

  “Jake.” She murmured it at first. Then his name became a chant, then a wild cry as she came, her spasms gripping his penis, massaging it relentlessly, coaxing him to pour himself into her.

  With a groan of surrender, he did. With one more deep thrust, he erupted. His seed spilled out in a rush of such pleasure that he was left gasping her name.

  Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.

  As long as he lived, he would remember this moment. And this woman. This very human woman.

  • • •

  Rachel discovered she liked being with a physically fit male creature who could carry her around. After experiencing the most shattering climax of her life, she didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone walk over to the bed. Jake carried her there. Problem solved.

  He even managed to slide the covers out from under her limp body so that she was lying on the soft bottom sheet. Jake obviously favored a high thread count. She did, too, but his concept of luxury bedding was even more evolved than hers. She liked that in a man . . . er . . . werewolf.

  In her postorgasmic haze, she wasn’t particularly concerned about Jake’s alternate persona. He was behaving like a strong and very solicitous lover, which certainly worked, no matter what he became in his spare time. He finished u
ndressing her so that every inch of her could appreciate the softness of his sheets, which were pale green and had a masculine scent that reminded her of sage.

  The room dimmed as he closed curtains or blinds or both. She didn’t look to find out. She was still riding the smooth wave of the climax he’d given her and wasn’t interested in the details of anything other than this huge, incredible bed . . . and huge, incredible Jake.

  When he climbed in beside her, the mattress didn’t shift much at all. A firm, strong bed with luscious sheets turned out to be a seductive combination. Slowly Jake began stroking her with his big hands. Her eyes still closed, she stretched like a cat under his lazy caress.

  “It’s late,” he murmured. “I should probably let you sleep.” But as he outlined each curve with the tips of his fingers, he didn’t seem inclined to do that.

  Opening her eyes, she discovered that he was following the tracing motion of his hands with his gaze, almost as if he was finger-painting a pattern on her skin and wanted to get it right. She’d never had anyone focus so intently on her body.

  She wondered why she wasn’t self-conscious under his close scrutiny and decided his attitude had everything to do with it. She was willing to lie there and let him explore because his appreciation made her feel beautiful, cherished, and sensual. A girl could get used to that.

  She wouldn’t let herself, though. He’d suspended his moral code on an extremely temporary basis. This blindingly erotic encounter would be brief and all the sweeter for that, probably.

  As he continued mapping her body, he trailed his fingers down her thigh to her calf, which was as far as he could reach without changing position. Pausing, he lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Do you want to sleep?”

  “No.” Reaching for him, she cupped his cheek and felt the slight bristle of his beard. “I can always sleep, but I won’t always have a chance to lie in this bed with you.”

  Regret flashed in his eyes. “No, you won’t. That’s why I’m memorizing you.”

  She brushed her thumb over his jaw. “Am I different from your Were lovers?” She understood that her novelty might be part of his fascination, but that was okay. If he allowed himself to have only one human sexual partner, she was happy to be his choice. “I mean, of course I’m different. I can’t become a wolf. But if you compare me with a female werewolf in human form, am I any different?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  That surprised her. “How?”

  “The biggest difference is your scent.” Capturing her hand, he turned his head so he could kiss her palm.

  “Werewolves don’t like almond?”

  He tickled her palm with his tongue. “This werewolf loves it. The smell of almonds will always remind me of you. It gets me hot. But that’s not what I meant.”

  “Then do explain, Professor Wolf.”

  “Okay.” Releasing her hand, he swung one leg over her hips and was soon braced above her on his forearms and knees. “But I can talk and kiss you at the same time.”

  “Really? Now you’re a ventriloquist, too?”

  “I meant I’d be butterfly kissing your body, not French-kissing your mouth.” Leaning forward, he started with her forehead. “Like this.” His lips brushed lightly over her brow.

  “Nice.”

  “And this.” He touched his lips to the end of her nose. “But I’m skipping that sexy mouth. You kiss like a porn star.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or not. “How do you know? Have you kissed one?”

  He laughed. “No. Just watched the video.” He nuzzled her throat. “They give it their all, and so do you. If I let myself get involved with your mouth, I’ll never finish paying attention to the rest of you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”

  “I meant it to be.” He moved slowly across her shoulder and down her left arm, dropping kisses along the way.

  It seemed innocent at first, but as her skin began to tingle, she realized how potent this seemingly low-impact caress could be. He was seducing her a millimeter at a time.

  “The thing about werewolves,” he said as he moved to her other shoulder to give it the same treatment, “is that of the five senses, smell is our most acute. If a Were in human form walked into a room, you would never know. But I would by the scent.” His warm breath touched the places he’d moistened with his lips.

  “Oh.” Now she was tingling and deliciously shivery, too. “Do males and females smell different?”

  “Yes, but not a lot different.” He kissed the tips of her fingers and paused. “Plus each individual varies in scent. Humans, on the other hand, smell altogether different from Weres. And they have as many individual variations as werewolves do.”

  When he paused, she expected him to move back up her body to her collarbone and work down from there. But instead he slipped to the end of the bed and began kissing her toes. “That tickles.”

  “Then I’d better hold you still so you don’t kick me in the face.” He grasped both ankles as he took his time placing his mouth on her toes, her heels, and the arch of each foot. She’d never realized the arch of her foot was an erogenous zone. Judging from the zing of sensation between her thighs, the arch of her foot was prime sensual real estate.

  “In other words,” he continued, “I have a very sensitive nose, and I know what I like. The almond scent is a nice touch, but your own special aroma, the one you don’t even realize you have, drives me crazy.” He began his journey from her ankles up her calf toward her knee.

  Her breathing grew shallow. “Speaking of driving someone crazy, you’re having quite an effect with those little kisses, Jake.”

  “I can tell.” He kissed the back of her knee and took a deep breath. “You smell more delicious by the second.”

  “Are you going to eat me up?”

  He laughed. “How did you guess?”

  She knew what he meant and wasn’t frightened in the least. As he kissed his way along her inner thigh, his destination obvious, she trembled with anticipation. Chances were he’d be very good at what he was about to do. She was in for a treat.

  Apparently, so was he. Until now she’d been kidding herself that he was no different from any guy she’d had sex with. Sure, he had a few more muscles and could carry her to bed without breaking a sweat, but that only meant he was in great shape, not that he was different.

  Ah, but he was different. His senses were sharper than any human’s. Every physical experience he had would be enhanced as a result. It stood to reason that his sensual appetites would be highly developed to match his greater capacity for enjoyment.

  Now she recognized him for what he was, a creature not of her kind. She felt it in the grip of his strong hands as he steadied her for his purposeful assault. She heard it in the rasp of his breathing, saw it in the fierce joy lighting his eyes before he dipped his head to take what he wanted.

  She surrendered to pleasure that whispered of primitive cravings and untamed desire. At last she understood that with every moment in his embrace, she’d slip farther from the civilized world and deeper into the wild place that Jake called home. Although he appeared to be a man, beneath his muscled chest beat the heart of a wolf.

  Chapter 14

  Jake knew the exact moment when Rachel fully realized who and what he was. He saw it in her silver eyes right before he captured her in that most intimate of kisses. If he’d seen fear in her gaze, he would have released her.

  But instead of fear, he saw excitement. She knew him as a werewolf, and she wanted him anyway. No, that was wrong. She didn’t want him in spite of his shape-shifting nature, but because of it. His wildness spoke to something wild in her, and she welcomed it, and him.

  Her complete acceptance was more than he’d ever hoped for, and it meant he could give her so much more. He could call to that primitive part of her that longed to loosen the polite bonds of society. He could teach her to grasp the power of raw hunger instead. And he could start n
ow.

  Gone were the butterfly kisses. He thrust deep with his tongue, invading her most private spaces without giving her time to think or even to breathe. He applied relentless suction and she came in a heartbeat, arching off the bed and pressing herself against his mouth. Her panting cries filled the room.

  He went deeper, pushed her harder, and she writhed on the bed in ecstasy. When she came again, she swore so colorfully, he laughed. The vibration of his laughter sent her spinning out of control again as she moaned and thrashed in his grip. He loved turning her inside out.

  He bore down again as she gasped and begged for mercy. But he knew her now. She didn’t want mercy. She wanted one more climax, the kind that would leave her half-crazed with the majesty and wonder of it, the kind that stripped her down to the basics of what it meant to be a sexual animal.

  Her skin was slippery with sweat and her breathing was no longer ladylike and prim. She dragged in air through her mouth and uttered cries that had no resemblance to speech. But they spoke to him.

  Joy exploded within him at her willingness to shoot past the barriers and follow him to this place of uninhibited ecstasy. With a sound wrenched from the depths of her being, a sound more growl than groan, she surged over the precipice in one final, glorious orgasm.

  Slowly he lowered her hips to the bed, but he stayed with her, savoring her juices, calming her with slow swipes of his tongue. She quivered as the aftershocks rippled through her body, and then she lay still. The room was quiet again except for the gentle sound of their breathing.

  Jake matched the rhythm of his breath to hers and relished the sound of that. His cock, thick and hot, reminded him that she’d had multiple orgasms but he had not. He would wait. When he took her again, he wanted her eagerness. Even Rachel, as sensual as she had proven to be, wouldn’t be eager for him now.

  He smiled as he replayed her unbridled response to his lovemaking. Because they had no future, he shouldn’t want to be the best lover she’d ever had. Unfortunately, he did want that.