The Lone Wolf's Craving
Page 10
Great. She’d made that stupid comment and now she was going to have to suffer the consequences. Although suffering wasn’t exactly the word she would use.
Warm lips touched her cheek again and slid over to her ear in a soft caress. “Unless you’d rather I blindfold you instead.”
“I wouldn’t be able to see you, either way.” she groused.
“No, Kate, you wouldn’t.” His breath was warm, and she shivered again. “But I’d be able to see you.”
She’d be lying there naked and exposed for his viewing pleasure while she was kept in utter darkness.
“Not fair.” She forced a laugh, but it came out strangled.
“I never said I was going to play fair.” The bed gave as he sat next to her. “So which will it be? Lights or blindfold?”
“Lights.”
“Now, that’s just a damn shame.” He stroked her jaw, letting his hand trail down the line of her throat. When he reached the top button of her blouse, he flicked it open with nimble fingers. He moved on to the next one. “I like this shirt. I can unbutton it and spread it open...like this.”
The front edges of her shirt were peeled apart and laid on the bed.
His hands glided across her abdomen, just his fingertips touching her. Goose bumps broke out over her flesh as he made his way up to her bra. He tapped the plastic fastener in the hollow of her breasts.
“I like this, as well.”
He unclipped it and drew the edges sideways, forcing the fabric to slide slowly over her nipples as it went. They reacted instantly, and she pushed them upward almost against her will, the contact over far too quickly.
And Luke didn’t seem in a hurry to replace the bra with his hands—or, better yet, his mouth.
Still sitting, he touched her imprisoned wrists, easing his fingers down the sensitive skin on the insides of her forearms, gliding past her elbows until he reached her shoulders.
He turned his hands over, his knuckles skimming the sides of her breasts, barely avoiding the nipple area, which was screaming for his touch. He repeated the gesture.
He wasn’t into whipping. He was into torture instead.
On the third pass, with no relief in sight, she groaned. “Luke, please.”
Sliding his hands under the back of her rib cage, his thumbs continued to stroke the sides of her breasts. Circling without touching the end zone. “What do you want, Kate?”
She swallowed. Was he going to make her say it?
“Tell me.” His thumbs swept up the sides again, almost, almost grazing the right spot.
“I want you to touch me.” The whispered words came out of their own accord.
His fingers paused in midstroke, just beyond reach. “Where?”
God, she wanted her hands free so she could show him instead.
She sucked down a couple of deep breaths, her body seething with need as she tried to screw up the courage. “M-my nipples.”
“Your nipples. Mmm. Like this?” His thumbs gave a single sweet stroke across the sensitive buds and pure sensation streaked from her breasts straight down to her groin. A raw, tremulous sound erupted from her throat, and she strained against the leather belt holding her in place.
He didn’t make her beg again but centered his attention right where she’d asked, murmuring his approval when she arched into his hands to increase the contact. He squeezed, his thumb and forefinger creating the most delicious mixture of pressure and friction imaginable, then leaned down and kissed her. Kate found herself trying to devour his mouth, her tongue seeking and finding his, rubbing against it like a needy cat. All the while he kept the main part of his attention centered on her breasts.
She wanted him inside her now. Needed him so badly. Dragging her mouth away, she squirmed and shifted, all the while trying to find the words inside her that would get her what she craved. “Luke, now. Please.”
He immediately slowed, drawing his fingertips down her stomach in long, soothing trails. “Not yet. Not for a while.”
What? Surely he wasn’t going to leave her hanging? Or, worse, leave her alone completely. They could go slow later. Or he could go as slow as he wanted to, she just needed...needed...
Release.
She squeezed her thighs together, her hips unconsciously rising and falling, seeking the kind of pressure she needed to get over the top of that mountain.
A knee wedged between hers. Thinking he was going to give her what she wanted, she quickly parted them wide for him. He moved onto the bed, kneeling between her legs before going down on his haunches, making no move to remove his clothing. Or to lie on top of her. All he did was continue to stroke her sensitized skin, avoiding all the important areas.
“Luke, what are you doing?”
She saw the glint of his teeth in the darkness. “I said not yet.”
Too late, she realized he’d tricked her into separating her thighs, preventing her from using them to bring herself to completion. “No!”
“Yes.” He leaned over and nipped her jaw. “You’ll thank me later. I promise.”
No, she wouldn’t. Only someone with a sadistic sense of humor would say something like that.
Then his lips went to her nipple and pulled hard. The sudden wet heat chased away all thoughts of revenge, replacing them with a clawing need that took right up where it had left off. He leaned up and grabbed the fabric of his polo shirt, yanking it over his head.
Finally!
Kate found her eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, and she could barely make out the shadow of his tattoo and the diagonal trail of the old knife wound on his chest. But she still couldn’t see clearly enough to satisfy her.
Her hands flexed on the bedpost, wanting to run her fingers down his chest and unsnap the button to his khakis. But she couldn’t. He’d seen to that.
He did slide backward, however, and undo hers. Unlike the last time, he didn’t leave her panties on. Instead, he peeled both garments down her legs, until they were gone.
Then his mouth was on her inner knee, licking his way slowly up. She swallowed, the urge to snap her legs together thwarted by the fact that he was still between them. Why did she get the feeling that had been his plan all along?
Oh, he was devious. Merciless. And she might just thank him later after all.
If only he’d hurry it up!
He bit her inner thigh, unexpectedly, causing her to jump and moving her thoughts firmly back to him.
His hands went to her hips, fingers curling around them, holding her in place as he made his way higher, inch by inch. He might be trying to keep her from squirming, but that was impossible at this point. Her body was following each and every movement his lips made and trying to anticipate where they might head next...to maximize the contact.
His palms went under her butt and lifted, as if serving her up for his pleasure. And his first bite made her cry out.
“I love hearing you whimper when I touch you.” He took a slow swipe with his tongue, eliciting a pained moan this time, while he watched her. “It makes me so fucking hard.”
Her, too. Her parts might be different but, God, he hit her right where it counted.
He continued to stare over the planes and hills of her body, his eyes boring into hers. He slid his hands out from beneath her, her butt dropping back to the surface of the bed, while he stayed exactly where he was.
What? That was it?
He gave her a slow smile. “Do you want me, Kate?”
“You know I do.” Her heart was thundering in her chest, begging him to finish her off. All it would take was a few more seconds.
“Show me.”
How? Her hands were tied. She couldn’t touch him. Could barely move anything except her pelvis.
He nodded. “Do it. Show me what you want.”
His lips zeroed in on the tiny erect nub of flesh and surrounded it, tongue gliding across it in a long exquisite stroke that seemed to go on forever while she pressed harder and harder against him, her insides winding impossibly tight. From a distance she heard herself panting his name, her voice sliding up an imaginary scale of notes, until her eyelids screwed down tight. And she screamed. Long and loud, the release of doing so incredible. All the while his mouth held her prisoner, his hands returning to support her butt when she would have collapsed. He kept her there for several seconds until every muscle in her body released at once, going totally boneless.
Still he kissed her, until he’d coaxed every last twitch from her body.
“God,” she whispered. “Oh, God.” She thought she might have kept saying those words over and over, but she wasn’t sure. Then he was there, finally on top of her, finally sliding into her body, filling her.
Kissing her lips. Smoothing her hair away from her damp brow.
She’d never be the same again. Ever. She still couldn’t bring herself to move, even when he withdrew and pushed forward again. Then words came from shaking lips. “Thank you.”
She’d said it. And she didn’t care.
He reached up and undid the belt, freeing her hands, still deep inside her. As she shut her eyes and pulled in a deep sigh, he cupped her face and kissed her again. “That was just the beginning.”
For him, maybe. She was shot. But she was perfectly willing to entertain him after the orgasm he’d just given her.
As if he was a mind reader, he muttered, “Do you think you’re done, Kate? Do you think your body is done?” He edged deeper and touched a spot inside that flickered back to life, despite herself. “It’s not. It just doesn’t know it yet.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LUKE WAS DRESSED before she woke up. Just like he always was when he spent the night with someone.
It wasn’t vanity. At least, he didn’t think it was.
The fact that he didn’t have a single full-length mirror in his house didn’t mean a thing. He’d be the first to admit he couldn’t stomach the sight of that atrophying, twisted lump of flesh he called a leg. The actual scars didn’t faze him—he saw much worse on a daily basis at the hospital. It was what those scars represented that kept him from switching the lights on and making love like a normal person.
The sizzling scent of bacon brought his attention back to the skillet, and he adjusted the flame, turning the strips so they’d cook on the other side. The least he could do was feed her.
A slight smile tilted his lips as he remembered Kate’s slim body writhing beneath his hands—pushing up toward his mouth. Yes, it was heady knowing he had the power to make her reach for her pleasure—to exercise a small amount of control over her. There was no denying it. But there was also method to his madness. He’d found the faster he got a woman to that plateau high above the easy petting and foreplay that went on in most relationships, the less likely she was to glance back toward earth and see him. The real him.
Then he could relax and enjoy her—enjoy the sex—without the elaborate maneuverings necessary to keep her attention off him. Once she was in the clouds, all he had to do was use his voice. Direct her. Keep her focused on her own body.
And the shorter the relationship was afterward, the less likely a woman was to want to cuddle on the couch. To start probing a little too deeply. Or insist the lights stay on.
Like Kate had tried to do.
He glanced down at his pants leg. No one would ever guess what was just below that fabric...and what lay deep beneath the skin, muscle and bone. Luke had become that leg. Obsessed with what its weakness had cost him.
Damn it!
Why was he slogging through all this again?
Because he knew his time with Kate needed to come to an end. Soon. Not just because of Nick—although not keeping his word on that front was eating at him—but also because that’s the way it had to be. The way it had always been.
“Hey, why didn’t you wake me up?”
Kate stood in the doorway, draped in one of his white dress shirts. She didn’t have it buttoned up the front, just wrapped around her waist like a bathrobe. Her folded arms held it in place. Little did she know that doing so pulled the fabric taut against her breasts, the rosy outlines of her nipples clearly visible. Or maybe she did know.
Glancing at her face, he saw nothing but a puzzled question. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t woken her up, it was as simple as that. Nothing coy or cunning about her.
Unlike him, who’d manipulated her exactly where he’d wanted her.
He swallowed. Yep, he was as ugly inside as that damned leg. Maybe uglier.
“I thought you might like to sleep.”
“Do you have to work?”
“Yes, in about an hour.”
She pulled the shirt tighter. “Were you going to wake me at all?”
Of course he was. But not until the last minute, when she’d be forced to eat quickly so he could drive her back to the hotel.
Picking up a plate, he laid the bacon onto the paper towels covering it, choosing his words carefully. “I was going to let you sleep as long as possible, but, yes, I was going to wake you up.”
She took a couple of steps closer, and he held the plate out, offering her some of the meat. She shook her head. “I need to go shower and get dressed.”
“Your clothes are folded in the bathroom.”
“Let me guess. You washed them.”
There was an acid tinge to her voice that made him look at her a little closer. Should he not have washed them?
“Is something wrong?”
She shut her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “No. Sorry. I just didn’t mean to wind up here.”
“At my house?”
“Among other things.”
He set the plate down and moved toward her. “You seemed to enjoy it well enough.”
She laughed. “Oh, I did. That’s not the problem.”
Strange. He was the one who normally went down this particular road. According to his mental GPS, it was called Regret Avenue, and he seemed to wind up there a lot.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He combed his fingers through her soft hair and let it fan out around her shoulders. “We’re both consenting adults. We had a little fun. No one was injured. At least, I don’t think anyone was.” His thumb skimmed over her jaw. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that my mom...” She shook her head. “Never mind. You’re right. It was fun. And now it’s...”
She didn’t finish the thought, but he could fill in the blank. And now it’s over.
So why was he chafing at the thought? Because she was fun and honest and sexy, a combination he found lethal.
“Why don’t you go get your shower and I’ll make some toast and eggs to go along with this? How do you like yours?”
“I like them unbroken.”
“Excuse me?” There was a wistfulness in her voice that made him squirm inside.
“Sorry. The eggs. I like them hard boiled.”
Why did he think she was talking about something other than the eggs?
She was only in London for a little while, as was he. And even if they had been from the same geographical
location in the States, it wasn’t likely they could take things to the next level, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. This was a vacation fling on her part, and a very pleasant encounter on his.
Nick came back to mind. His friend had slept with a tourist and had ended up fathering a child. Was she thinking that both her biological father and the man whose life he’d saved were both shallow bastards, happy with a quick roll in the hay?
He could see how it might look. But surely she knew Nick was not like that, even if he was.
He might not be able to reassure her about his own intentions, but he could at least defend Nick. “Your dad—Nick—is a good man. If he’d known your mom was pregnant, he’d have done his best to make it right.”
“I know.” She lifted one shoulder. “I’ll go get that shower, if it’s okay.”
“Of course. The eggs should be done in around twenty minutes.”
As she walked away, he wondered if he hadn’t done such a good job at hiding after all. Because despite all the hard work he’d gone to last night, she seemed to know exactly who—and what—he was.
* * *
Kate was on her third day of observations. Laisse had gotten permission not only for her to explore their treatment methods but had handed her a form that would let her apply for an internship. It seemed her training in the States would be valid in the UK, with a bit of tweaking and the addition of a course or two. Nick had finished his therapy so she wouldn’t get to help with it as she’d hoped, but they were getting to know each other a little better so she didn’t need an excuse to see him.
As she watched the therapist direct a patient on the leg-press machine, she thought about where she and Nick would go from here.
Tiggy, after the initial awkwardness, had been wonderfully accepting of her. She and Nick were obviously deeply in love. She could see it in the way the other woman touched him repeatedly, and the way Nick’s ruggedly handsome face softened whenever he looked at his wife. Although he received quite a few sideways looks from other women, he never gave them a second glance. He only had eyes for his wife.
What would it be like to have someone love you so completely that anyone else became invisible? Kate had had boyfriends and lovers, but none of them had scratched below the surface of her heart.