Savage Love

by J. L. Madore

  With gentle fingers, I massaged her scalp and lathered the wet fall of hair down her back. When things were solidly taken care of, I turned her to face me to rinse and repeat. Using my thumbs at the top of her forehead, I ensured no soapy water got into her eyes. I shifted her one step closer to get the water to fall off the back of her head.

  The change in position had us rubbing front-to-front.

  A mewling sound escaped Hannah’s throat, and I took the cue. Her mouth met mine, hot and inviting, and the rest of her body followed close behind. Hands seeking. Arms tightening. With our wet skin, the heat and friction of gliding against each other had me trembling with anticipation.

  Hannah was right there with me.

  A sure hold claimed my cock and my knees almost buckled. I dropped my head back and swallowed, waiting for my vision to clear. She tightened her grip and stroked tip to balls and back again.

  After a minute or two, I squeezed her hand and tugged for her to release. I wouldn’t last if she kept that up. It had been too long, and I wanted this too much.

  “It’s fine,” she said, refusing to be derailed. “Let me take the edge off for you. It’s been one heck of a tough day and you’ve done a lot for me.”

  There was no arguing with Hannah. Who was I kidding? I didn’t want to argue. Pressing one hand to the tile wall to keep from falling, I slid the other under her jaw to reclaim her kiss. The sting building at the base of my sac had me cursing the ecstasy of her touch.

  I wanted this to last. Forever.

  “I wish I had two good hands for this. You’re bigger than I remember,” she breathed against my lips. She rocked me with a slow up and down, squeezing almost enough to make me beg.

  Fuck almost. More. Being mute sucked.

  I tilted my hips, pressing harder into her grip. She got the message and got rough. My length slid in her fist, silky sheath over marble column. Her nails scraped the tender flesh with each stroke, drawing me ever closer to plummeting.

  When she reached the top of the next stroke, she flicked her thumb through the slit of my crown. Lightning shot a hot flame from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck. Tiny electrical shocks ignited under my skin.

  My breath caught. Muscles tensed. Oh, gods . . . yes.

  Hot streams spewed onto my abs, her hand, my thigh. Over and over, the pleasure racked me. Her hand slicked with cum, my body convulsing as I panted through it.

  This was more than sex. For me, anyway. I was hers. She was mine. It was that simple.

  When things settled down, I turned her toward the spray and washed her off. The nip to the tender column of her neck served as my thanks, and she got the message because she smiled over her shoulder and winked.

  With my semi-hard cock nestled along the crease of her ass, I reached for the conditioner. I had a job to do, and I’d be damned if I neglected my duty. Back on track, regardless of the tremble in my legs, I resumed the lather and massage and marveled at how her curves glistened under the spray.

  Finished with the second stage of hair care, I rinsed things clean, and shut off the water. I wanted her beneath me—desperately—but also wanted to allow her to set the pace.

  When I opened things up and leaned out to grab a towel, she stroked me from breast to thigh and back again.

  Yeah, doc. Keep that up.

  I wrapped her in the towel and, inch by delicious inch, dried her off. She arched to my ministrations, surging against my touch. The vibration burning inside me rose with every brush of her skin, every drip collected.

  My love for Hannah called out to the darkest part of me. Warmed the icy chill. Demanded I pleasure her. Mark her. Claim her. If I were a Were, I’d say my animal side claimed her as my mate. I was bonded.

  Lifting her against my chest, I turned toward the bedroom.

  “No,” she said, wriggling to get down. “Not in my bed. We’re not that anymore.”

  Disappointment hit hard. I granted her freedom and stepped back, using the edge of the tub to keep me upright.

  She folded the mile of terry I used to dry her and set it to hang over the edge of the countertop of the bathroom vanity. “You destroyed me when you left. I won’t go through that again.”

  I held my expression blank even as her words pierced my cold, dark heart. I’m sorry, I signed, but she wasn’t looking, and I knew the evasion was intentional.

  Facing the vanity, she opened the center drawer and pulled out a row of condoms and the coconut massage oil she always liked. “Just sex.”

  Right. What I took as a win before, now hollowed me out. If I was a stronger man, my pride might have told me to walk away. I wasn’t. I couldn’t. I needed her. I loved her.

  Surely, I could prove that to her more each time we connected. Right? It wasn’t over. It wasn’t hopeless, was it? Dropping the towel from my hips, I stepped in behind her.

  When she bent forward and rested her elbows on the counter, my heart stumbled behind my battered ribs. She didn’t want me looking into her eyes. She didn’t want me to creep behind her defenses.

  Folding myself over her, I drew my tongue down the long line of her spine. The howl of the wind outside voiced my pain and, at the same time, was music to my ears.

  As long as winter battled like a vengeful fury out there, we could take our time in here. Reaching across the counter, I picked up the massage oil and got things started.

  With Hannah propped up on her elbows, I reached between her belly and the towel. The hanging weights of her breasts fit my hands perfectly, and the glide of the oil had my balls tingling. I gave each side a gentle squeeze, twisting the tightened buds of her nipples as I worked my way down her spine with my mouth.

  “You always know how to work my body,” she said, her hips swaying against my erection.

  That’s because I love you, I thought. Because your body is mine to love, and bring to new heights.

  Working her with both my mouth and my hands, I worshipped her down to her tailbone. The throaty sounds she made when she was sexually impatient hadn’t changed.

  I wouldn’t be rushed.

  Gripping her hips, I bit the round of her ass hard enough to make her gasp. I knew the sounds she made and that one—the catch, the breathy hiss—yeah, that one put her squarely where I wanted her.

  I smiled at the teeth marks pinking her tanned flesh and kissed the sting away. Her heated gaze met mine in the mirror, and I fought to keep things casual. If playing her game was my only access pass, I’d pretend this didn’t mean everything to me. But it did.

  The condom wrapper ripped between my teeth, and I tossed the empty foil. Once I was gloved for love, I gripped my throbbing length and played in her heat, slicking, teasing, probing. Notched at her entrance, I didn’t push inside.

  Her rejection hurt, and I was petty enough to want her to suffer at least a little frustration before I caved and gave her everything she wanted.

  Hannah growled and pushed back. I countered and pulled my hips. She glared at me in the mirror, and I arched a brow. I wasn’t one for games, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how.

  “Really? You’re playing hard to get?”

  I shrugged, pressing against her opening enough to start to breach. The gasp that escaped her lips had me pulsing. She must have felt it because she dropped her face to the towel and groaned.

  Yeah, we were both stubborn enough that this standoff could last all afternoon. But really, what fun would that be?

  The next time she pushed back, I let her take what she wanted. I didn’t get in far. We’d always been a tight fit, but her sex would accept me as soon as I treated her right.

  With one hand gripping her hip, I wrapped the other around to find that magic button of hers.

  Hannah dropped to the counter and groaned at the injustice. Hot, panting, and so wound up she might explode with sexual frustration, she waved her tail in the air like a bitch in heat. She’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t him, but Savage had always had this effect on her. Part of her hated it. A
bigger part of her loved it. Craved it. Totally got off on it.

  Her body had always been responsive to his touch.

  He rubbed over her clit and continued to ease in and pull out. The friction of fill and retreat incredible. It drove her to madness. “Please . . . yes, more.”

  He grabbed the massage oil again and drizzled it down the base of her spine. What was he— “Oh mercy.”

  That bad-boy thumb was back and playing. She never thought she’d like something like that, had never entertained the idea of anal play with any other man, but with Savage, she did, and he knew she did. Her release built inside her, the throbbing wanton taking control.

  She widened her stance and locked her knees. It had been ages since she’d had great sex. No way she was ruining this by collapsing to the bathroom floor. Whatever he was giving, she was taking. Even if—

  “Ohmigoodness.” She pushed back, his thumb breaching her backside as his erection pushed fully inside her sex. The animalistic growl behind her triggered a rush of silk heat between her thighs.

  The dual penetration was nothing short of invasive. Too much. Not enough. The moisture it triggered gave him the glide to really started moving.

  Savage released her clit and gripped her hip, leveraging his hold to pump harder. Faster. Bracing herself with her good hand pressed against the mirror, she looked back and watched him take her. The man was possessed, the feral look in his eyes as he focused on her was waaaay too intense.

  She closed her eyes as he rode her hips hard into the edge of the counter. She didn’t care, meeting every stroke with a groan of pleasure. The thrust and retreat, with the pressure of his invading thumb had her flying beyond any discomfort she might feel. “Yes. Hard. More. I can take more.”

  She dropped her head to the towel, her whole body on fire with the ache for him. More thumb. More pounding. More Savage. The slap of flesh to flesh echoed in her ears. The steamy air smelled of coconut, sex, and the mixture of their scents. It was an aphrodisiac, heady and addictive.

  It was Savage.

  Her world fractured and she blew apart. Light exploded behind closed eyes as she screamed his name and cried out a string of nonsense. She screamed for him again, another wave of agonizing pleasure trampling the first.

  His grip grew bruising, his thrusts hard enough she’d swear he might break through her womb. His breathing caught in rough, bursting pants. And then he stiffened.

  Behind her, his hips locked and she opened her eyes to watch him lose control. And he did.

  The man who stood behind her was not the man she’d known three years ago. This man was wilder. Far more dangerous. Savage’s head dropped back as he screamed in silent triumph. Long muscles stood out on his throat, his pulse pounding in the stretched veins of his neck.

  It was beautiful, and at the same time—terrifying.

  And then he collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I woke to the soft sawing snore of Chief on the end of the bed, and a silent world beyond. Not silent, as in lacking noise, but a vacuumed hush hanging over the outdoors that swallowed all the usual sounds of barnyard and beyond. The storm had ended, or moved off, cocooning the farm beneath a wooly blanket of insulating snow.

  Shit. How long ago had that happened? I grabbed the edge of the blankets and was about to vault out of Hannah’s bed when I saw Riley crossing the room.

  “Hey, you’re awake.” Focused as she was on the tray she carried, the kid didn’t seem to notice me covering things up on the quick. “Hannah’s homemade soup for the sicky.”

  Riley made it all the way to the bed without spilling, and I propped myself up to accept the tray.

  Where’s your sister?

  She watched my hands and frowned. “Sorry. Do you want Hannah?”

  I nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

  “Cool. I’ll get her. Feel better, okay? And eat your soup. It’s good, and good for you.”

  Lifting the spoon to my mouth, I made like I would chow down. When she left, I shifted the tray to the bedside table, flipped back the covers, and was up, searching for something to wear.

  “Huh, Riley failed to mention that you were streaking around my room naked. I hope this happened after she came to get me. Impressionable teenagers and all.”

  I straightened from my search for clothes on the top of her dresser and frowned. Where are my pants? I need my guns and my phone. How long was I out?

  Damn. My whole body ached. And shivered. And ached.

  Hannah’s fingers were cold on my hips as she steered me back toward the bed. “You push yourself too hard and regard yourself too little.”

  Probably. I shook my head—mistake. With my balance off, I tilted heavily to one side. I gave her credit. Hannah fought to keep me on my feet and won the battle. She’d muscled horses and cattle her whole life, and knew how to stand her ground against an overwhelming force.

  My hard body pressed against her soft curves and I wished, once again, that this reunion had taken a different path. I wanted to be naked in her bed, just not like this.

  “You collapsed on the bathroom floor a couple of hours ago. About twenty minutes later, you roused enough to help me get you to the bed. Your body needs rest, tough guy. Let’s get you back there before you face-plant a second time.”

  She gave me a shove, and I dropped like a felled tree. So much for my mighty muscles. I was helpless. Thankfully, I threw the sheets back when I got up. There was no way she could lift me to get them freed from under my ass if I hadn’t.

  Pulling the blankets to cover things up, I cursed the damned fever. Hannah’s care was incredible but now was not the time. Laying there with my eyes closed, I never wanted to move . . . but I had to.

  With the storm over, the wolves would realize they were down eight men and start looking. I needed to stay alert and protect Hannah and her sister.

  A hand brushed over my chest, and I winced. “Sorry. Is your skin too achy?”

  There she was, set up with warm water and a face cloth. I couldn’t believe I was nixing a sponge bath, but such was my life. I frowned and raised my hands. Can I get a do-over once I feel better?

  Hannah’s soft chuckle was all the medicine I needed. “Once you’re better, I expect you out of my bed. This is only about you burnin’ up. I took pity on your weakened state and knew I couldn’t get you to a spare room.”

  Yeah, maneuvering my almost two-hundred-and-seventy-pound body down the hall to one of the empty guest bedrooms would’ve been a chore. I tried not to think about the times we’d shared in this bed.

  Honestly, I never thought I’d be back.

  It sucked that it wasn’t as her lover, but whatevs. Incapacitated by fever gave me an in. Despite wanting to pull Hannah over my chest and sink into the sheets for the next two days, duty called. Help me get dressed. I need my clothes. Please. We’re running out of time.

  “You’re in no shape to take on anything but rest.”

  That doesn’t work for me.

  She squeezed my arm and smiled. Her eyes were clouded with worry, and I knew she was fronting on my behalf. “It looks like you’ve lost the upper hand, soldier.”

  Hannah, seriously, I gotta get dressed and ready.

  “No clothes, you’re burning up as it is. Here, let me get these on you.”

  She took a pair of socks and pulled them over my feet. When the lumpy soles hit my arches, I screwed up my face and looked at her. What the hell is in there?

  “Chopped onions.”

  Why?

  “My gran always put cut onions in our socks when we were sick. It draws the germs and impurities out of your system. Here, drink this.”

  The brown concoction smelled like rotting assholes—hard pass. I can’t take anything. Don’t you get it? Wolves will come. I need to defend you.

  The roll of her eyes gave me hope she was done arguing. Ha! Nope. She grabbed a blue and gold tin and twisted off the lid. “You’re in no shape to do anything but recuperate
. When are you expecting the trouble?”

  Any time now. The storm was the only thing holding off their search. It won’t take them long to track Myra here now.

  Hannah rubbed a thick, menthol salve on my neck and chest, and swiped a finger under my nose. Cold on my skin, I shook the bed as another wracking shiver took me. Is this cruel payback for my past transgressions?

  Her smile fell. “This is me helping you, despite them.”

  The hurt swimming in those big brown eyes pegged me in the chest. I gripped her wrist as she moved to pull away. I’m sorry, I mouthed, not letting her escape. I should have said yes. Ask me again.

  She blinked, her expression going blank. Collecting the soup tray, she shifted it to the dresser. “Rest now. Riley and I will hold down the fort.”

  Wait. My guns and my phone. Hannah retrieved my belongings. I checked my Glocks, set them within reach, and called up the contacts list on my phone. I couldn’t defend Hannah like this. Cowboy’s pack could arrive at any time.

  I needed reinforcements.

  I hit send as the last ounce of energy evaporated. There were few people I trusted to watch over what was mine, but in this sitch, only one to call on.

  I closed my eyes, the scent of Hannah engulfing me. Sprawling lifeless in her sheets wasn’t all bad, especially with the image of her playing Florence Nightingale with the sponge bath etched into my memory.

  If I died here, at least I’d die happy. My only regret would be that I let Hannah down.

  Again.

  Hannah shut the bedroom door and hurried back to check on Riley and Myra. The panic in Savage’s eyes rattled her. They were in serious trouble and despite him thinking himself invincible, he wasn’t up to the task of protecting them at the moment.

  A knock sounded at the door and Chief barked, racing down the front hall. His nails clicked on the wood floor, and her heart raced in time with the beat.