Cat Scratch Fever

by Jodi Redford

  A grunt issued from Dante, and she shrugged. “Hey, I was mad.”

  He stroked his goatee. “Actually, that might work in our favor. I’m assuming you told her about what happened on the road?”

  She nodded.

  “So tell her I made you dinner as an apology, and one thing led to another.” His mouth tipped into another of those panty-wetting grins. “After one incredible night in the sack together, you knew you could never live without me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. No one’s going to believe that.”

  His palm curved over her knee. “I bet I can make you believe it.”

  She tried not to focus on the distracting way his fingers brushed along the inner seam of her pants. “Don’t count on it.”

  “Should I take that as a challenge?” His gaze still locked with hers, he took her plate and set it next to her coat.

  Planting his hands on the chair’s upholstered arms, he boxed her in and leaned so close, she easily made out the flecks of gold in his irises. Compelling as his gaze was, her attention couldn’t help straying to his mouth. Her nipples tightened as she imagined those sexy, masculine lips traveling in a slow glide across her breasts and belly. What would his goatee feel like against her skin? Would it be scratchy and irritating, or soft and ticklish?

  Unconscious of her actions, she reached up and traced her fingertips over his jaw. “Hmm, definitely soft and ticklish.”

  A wicked sparkle danced in Dante’s eyes. “Were you having dirty thoughts about my beard?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Tell me what you were thinking.”

  The husky persuasion in his voice proved to be her ultimate downfall. “I was wondering what it’d feel like on certain parts of my body.”

  Dante licked his lips in a way that was incredibly…wolfish. “I can show you firsthand.”

  The heat simmering inside her kicked into full boil. Dante’s nostrils flared, and the intensity in his eyes sharpened. “Christ. I smell how fucking turned on you are.”

  “I can’t help it.” She swallowed hard and squirmed against the cushion. “It’s the hormones.”

  “No, it’s more than that. And you know it.” His face inched closer until his breath mingled with hers. “You want me, Lilly. Admit it.”

  “I don’t know what’s bigger—your ego, or your self-delusions.”

  He gave her a predatory grin that prompted flutters in her stomach. “Neither is any match for the size of my cock. But then you already know that.”

  He would have to bring up his impressive package at a time like this. Now she couldn’t get the damn thing out of her mind. Which wasn’t helping her present condition at all. “Another check mark for your massive eg—” The remainder of her comeback fell victim to the firm, sinful pressure of his mouth on hers. A shaky whimper escaped her. Dante took that as a convenient invitation to thrust his tongue past her lips.

  She’d experienced plenty of kisses in her life. Not one of them came close to competing with the consuming hunger inherent in Dante’s. She could taste his desire. Feel his single-minded focus on her. It swept her up and left her breathless. His fingers tunneled insistently in her hair, angling her head back for a deeper exploration of her mouth. His tongue coaxed hers into play, and she eagerly obliged. God, she wanted to eat him up with a spoon. And that made absolutely no sense, considering how arrogant, obnoxious… chauvinistic… and… and…

  She lost her train of thought as his roving hands massaged her breasts through her top. Inspired to do her own exploring, she smoothed her palms over Dante’s broad shoulders, trying to drag him closer and tug his flannel shirt off at the same time.

  He pulled back, revealing an expression dark with passion. “There’s not enough room on this chair for us both. How about if we continue this on the couch?”

  “My bed is bigger.” The suggestion popped free before she could halt it. Grinding her teeth at her loud-mouthed inner slut, she waited for Dante to smirk and lob an appropriately lewd crack at her. Instead, he scooped her into his arms, knocking the bag of Brussels sprouts onto the ground. He was careful with her ankle, something she appreciated—though honestly, she didn’t even register any discomfort anymore. Likely the improvised icepack had done the trick. That, or lust had blindsided her to the point all other sensations had skulked into the farthest recesses of her consciousness.

  He walked down the short hallway and paused between the two open bedroom doors. “Which one?”

  She pointed to the doorway to the left of them, and he strode inside the small room. He carefully arranged her on top of the patchwork quilt before stretching out beside her. His mouth found the tender spot beneath her ear and quickly discovered how easy it was to reduce her into a quivery, gasping wreck. She tore at his shirt again, desperate to touch warm flesh rather than flannel. This time he obeyed her wishes and released the top few buttons before growing impatient and yanking the garment over his head and tossing it aside. She snuggled against him, a happy purr leaking free.

  He groaned and coasted his fingers along the curve of her spine. “Fuck, that’s sexy. Do you always purr like that?”

  “Usually only when I’m in the middle of a heat cycle.”

  His hand slid beneath her top and cupped her breast through the thin mesh of her bra. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb, and she arched into him. A feral growl rumbled from deep in his chest. “I wanna get you nekkid.”

  “Oh God, yes.” So much for keeping her inner slut out of this.

  Thankfully he required no further prompting and made short work divesting her of her top and bra. The rapt way he stared at her breasts brought a fresh surge of moisture between her legs. She whimpered as his hand splayed over her mound.

  “I don’t even need to touch you to know how fucking wet you are.”

  She didn’t doubt it. The clear evidence of her arousal scenting the air made it pretty damn impossible to miss. With Dante’s supersensitive nose, it was probably a thousand times more noticeable. She got her verification when he buried his face in the valley of her cleavage and inhaled with a lusty moan. His pupils dilated, making his eyes look exceptionally dark and predatory.

  Witnessing the raw, animalistic hunger riding his features speared a sharp spike of excitement through her, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded. Plumping her breasts with his hands, he sucked her nipple between his teeth and laved it into a stiff, turgid peak with his tongue. Gasping, she wiggled on the mattress, shamelessly undulating against the hand he’d kept wedged between her legs. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as the consuming need inside her became an agonizing torment. She tugged at his hair, panting, and he finally lifted his gaze to hers.

  He must have read the desperation in her eyes because he reached for her zipper and worked it down. Repositioning himself, he gently eased her pants and bikini down her legs before spreading her thighs enough to make room for his wide shoulders. His thumbs slid through the wetness coating her labia and held her open to his hot, devouring gaze. A millisecond later, his tongue swirled over her clit. She jolted at the intense sensation, her limbs trembling, but Dante’s big hands kept her hips pinned to the mattress and her pussy available for his feasting. And oh God, that was exactly what she felt like—the main entree in a luscious, decadent werewolf Happy Meal.

  Unlike some males she’d been unlucky enough to experience oral sex with, Dante clearly knew what he was doing. He savored her pussy like it was the most delicious treat he’d ever eaten. Succulent plunges of his tongue inside her soaked channel alternated with teasing flickers and lazy, wet swipes across her slippery, distended clit. Her body jerked uncontrollably with each passing lap of his tongue. The soft abrasion of his beard scruff along her sensitive tissues only drove her faster and faster toward that dazzling peak in the rapidly approaching distance. Her chest impossibly heavy, she fought for breath.

  “D-Dante, I’m going to—” A strained cry ripped from her as the lush, powerful orgasm slammed into her
with blinding impact. She shuddered, cradling his head in her hands as she held on for dear life.

  Eventually the quakes faded to a wonderful glow that left her limp and sated. Her murmur contented, she let go of Dante. His silky hair sifting free of her fingers, he gave a final lingering suckle on her clit and lifted his head. Licking his lips, he leaned upward to kiss her. She caressed his jaw, her fingers becoming damp with her own wetness. She lowered her hand to brush it on the quilt, but Dante gripped her fingers and sucked them into his mouth. Despite the magnificent orgasm he’d just given her, a renewed tickle of need fluttered low in her belly.

  He reluctantly let go of her fingers. “I could become addicted to your taste.”

  She offered him a cheeky grin. “Feel free to slake your thirst whenever you’d like.”

  He chuckled. “You might regret making that offer. Especially when I tie you to my bed and gorge on you for hours on end.”

  “That’s okay. As long as you let me do the same to you.” She smiled when the heat in his eyes intensified. “Hmm, I do believe you like the idea of me sucking your cock all night long.” She tiptoed her nails down his sculpted chest and followed the happy trail leading toward the waistband of his jeans. With one finger, she traced the rigid length of his erection through the denim before cupping him fully. He thickened within her grasp. She angled her head and scraped her teeth on the underside of his bristly jaw. He groaned, a shiver running through him.

  Excitement and heady desire heating her in decadent waves, she unbuttoned his jeans and freed his cock for her fingers to explore. The rigid veining of his shaft fascinated her, as did the way his testicles tightened when she massaged them lightly. Returning her focus to the satiny, plum-shaped cap, she encountered a weeping teardrop of his precome. Lifting her finger to her mouth, she sucked his essence from her skin with a soft moan.

  “Jesus.” A ragged exhale escaped Dante before he pulled her into his arms for a deep, drugging kiss that melted her bones. Their tongues tangled, intermingling both of their tastes. He broke the kiss and stared at her. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

  Whimpering in agreement, she yanked his jeans past his hips. He scooted out from between her legs so he could kick his boots and pants completely off. “I hope to fucking God you have some condoms stashed somewhere, because I sure as shit don’t.”

  Being shifters, they didn’t have to worry about human STDs, so condoms were strictly to prevent pregnancy amongst their kinds. But an unpleasant allergy to latex made condoms out of the question for her. “I can do even better than that. I have an IUD.”

  The expression that crossed Dante’s face reminded her of a kid who’d woken up Christmas morning to a pony in the backyard. He settled over her again and slid hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck. The delicious, heavy weight of his shaft nudged at the slick entrance of her pussy with its own brand of kiss. She wiggled beneath him, forcing his thick cockhead inside her a fraction. A tremor ran through Dante, and he rolled his hips, thrusting deeper. His penetration was a slow, luscious glide that allowed her to feel every hard centimeter of him. The diving of his cock didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt within her. He hesitated, his cockhead butting her cervix and his smoldering gaze locked with hers, before he retreated completely and started his lazy plunge all over again. And again.

  She tilted her hips, trying to speed him up, but he only lifted farther out of reach by balancing on his outstretched arms. Not about to be thwarted, she hooked her good leg behind his ass and ground against him. A bead of sweat slid down his sternum and lines of strain furrowed his forehead. “Babe, what part of I get to be on top do you not understand?”

  “But—” She broke off with an indignant gasp when Dante pulled out of her and rolled her onto her stomach. His hand settled firmly on her tailbone when she attempted to flip back over. The light dusting of hair on his thighs grazed her skin as he settled between her legs again. She snorted. “Doggie style? I should have known.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t even pretend you’re not gonna love this.” With that boast hanging in the air, he lifted her hips and thrust inside her. Somehow, the new position allowed him even deeper access, which he took full advantage of as he bottomed out inside her pussy. He pumped his cock in an unhurried, steady rhythm, the whole time keeping full command of their lovemaking and her pleasure.

  She had no option but to take it. And sweet mother of whiskers, did she freaking love it. Before Dante, she’d never experienced sex with a shifter who was the sheer epitome of dominant alpha. Amongst the lynchats, it was usually the females who held that title. Not that the males were pussy-whipped—no pun intended—but there was no denying that nine times out of ten, the women were the natural-born leaders and the most likely to take charge in the bedroom. She’d always assumed she preferred it that way, but she’d be a damn liar if she said she didn’t want to thoroughly submit to Dante’s mastery at the moment. Fortunately there would be plenty of time tomorrow to scold herself for usurping her feminist power. Because right now, Dante and his wonder cock were too potent to resist.

  Her toes curling, she gave in to the rapturous purr tickling the back of her throat.

  Dante’s rhythm faltered briefly before he thrust deeper. “Do you have any idea how much I fuckin’ loved watching you get yourself off yesterday? Later, I fantasized about doing exactly this, my cock pounding into you from behind while you played with your clit.”

  “Y-you did?” Almost unconscious of what she was doing, she slipped a hand between her legs and coasted a finger over the slick bundle of nerves.

  A growl issued from Dante. “Yeah, like that, baby. Stroke that pretty little clit for me.” His fingers clenching around her hips, he pulled her into his fierce thrusts. Between his pistoning cock and her rubbing motions, it took little time for the next climax to barrel down on her—this one even more powerful than the last. It tore through her, shattering her into a million brilliant fragments. Her incoherent cries rang in her own ears as her body trembled and convulsed. Her channel pulsed and spasmed around Dante, clamping down on his cock in a sucking embrace. With one last smooth thrust, he surged deep inside her and came with a long, shuddering groan.

  Their limbs entangled, they collapsed into the bedding. It took several moments to chase down her breath. Once she did, she rolled onto her other side to face Dante and grinned. “Okay, I might not mind being on the bottom once in a while. But just you wait until I’m on top.”

  A laughing groan rumbled through his chest. “Why do I get the feeling it’s gonna damn well kill me?”

  Chapter Seven

  Lilly gave an indulgent stretch as she swung her legs over the mattress. Eighteen hours had passed since Dante left her bed, and she was still sore—in all the right places. If there was one thing she’d learned from their sexy afternoon together, it was that werewolves possessed insane stamina. Honestly, it was no wonder so many damn Morgans populated this neck of the woods. Werewolves were bigger boinking machines than rabbits.

  Not that she was complaining…mostly.

  She gingerly tested the status of her injured ankle by resting most of her weight on that foot. Not even the tiniest twinge of pain. Pumping her fist in victory, she hurried to the bathroom and cranked on the shower to a hot enough setting to chase away the morning chill from her achy muscles. After stripping from her pajamas, she jumped beneath the spray and soaped up her washcloth. Despite her best efforts to ignore the pleasurable tingles shooting across her skin, the silky glide of the cloth brought her memories racing back to the enticing way Dante’s hands thoroughly explored every inch of her yesterday.

  A hot flush of need trembled through her. The realization that Dante had the power to affect her this way was both thrilling and disturbing. The handful of lovers she’d had in the past certainly hadn’t left her this weak-kneed with desire and starving for a repeat performance between the sheets.

  It must be the hormones. Soon as her heat cycle was finished, she’d be ba
ck to her normal self, thank God. It was disconcerting being a slave to her body where Dante was concerned. Just because she’d agreed to this sham of a marriage didn’t mean she could afford to grant him control of certain things that needed to stay out of this deal—like her heart. Thankfully their past history prevented the possibility of her falling for him. Sure, the sex was mind-blowing and something she could easily become addicted to, but nothing would suck more than being in a one-sided love affair. Her own mother had suffered from that unfortunate affliction. Although Rob Prescott had loved his wife before they’d ultimately divorced each other, it wasn’t exactly a secret that he’d shared his affections with other females. Seeing the silent anguish her mother had suffered throughout the years had only solidified Lilly’s decision to steer clear of marriage.

  Which really made her present predicament pretty damn ironic. But as long as she kept control of the situation and her emotions out of it, everything would be fine, and her heart would remain safe.

  Tossing the cloth aside, Lilly shut off the water and snagged a towel. She dressed before the shower’s warmth could abandon her bones. Releasing her hair from the clip she’d secured it with, she headed to the kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix. That plan became derailed when she inspected the package of coffee and realized she’d accidentally bought whole bean instead of ground. Groaning, she slumped against the counter and peered through the tiny window at the snowflakes pirouetting outside. Do I really need coffee that badly?

  Her groggy brain responded with a Hell yes. She nibbled her thumbnail as she eyed the dense stand of pines separating the farthest corner of her property from Dante’s. No doubt he had plenty of coffee in that well-stocked kitchen of his. But if she went over there, he’d assume she was using the visit as an excuse to jump him. Which now that she thought about it, sounded pretty damn appealing.