by Celia Kyle
Until the doorbell rang.
“Pizza!” Lucy cried, pulling free from his hold and leaving him utterly and painfully alone.
He knew she wanted him, he could have smelled her desire a mile away. Yet she denied herself. He didn’t really understand it, but she’d gone through so much in such a short period of time. Take a deep breath, he reminded his wolf, as much as himself. They’d promised to give her space. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted the crotch of his pants and sat on the couch.
Lucy returned with a slice of pizza dangling from her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she tossed the box at him and kicked back next to him, crossing her feet in his lap.
“Oh God, does everything taste so good when you’re a wolf?”
She moaned with delight. Mason never in his life imagined he’d be jealous of a slice of pizza.
“No idea. I’ve always been a wolf. But I suspect your change is progressing, so you probably have heightened senses.”
In less time than it took for the pizza to arrive, they’d devoured the entire pie—mostly Lucy. Her transformation was clearly using up a lot of calories, making her ravenous. Mason only hoped she’d be hungry for more than food. And soon.
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten half a pizza before,” Lucy said as she stuffed their grease-soaked napkins in the empty box.
“Half?” Mason challenged.
She laughed and then stood, moving toward the door. “Thank you for a lovely day, Mason. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I had a lot of fun.”
Mason stood too, but he didn’t acknowledge her moon-sized hint. Instead he headed for the stairs. “I did too, Lucy. And now it’s time for bed.”
Ignoring her stuttering and huffing, he headed directly to her room, using his sense of smell to track it down. It probably looked exactly as it did the day her parents died—posters of old boy bands, a few vestiges of her obvious ‘pretty, pretty princess’ stage, and a closet full of outdated clothing.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He eyeballed her narrow queen-sized bed. “You need a bigger bed.”
“It’s plenty big,” she argued. Always arguing!
“For you. But you have a mate now. A big one.”
Her growl of irritation—mixed with the scent of her sudden surge of desire—made his dick harder than he could ever remember it being. She really was quite a specimen! He smiled and stepped up close to her, gathering her in his arms. Her eyes grew wide when he pressed his cock against her hip and her breathing grew shallow.
Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. “If I leave, will you come with me?”
She shuddered. “No,” she breathed.
“And that’s why I’m staying here tonight. You’re my mate, and you might find this hard to believe, but I can’t bear to be apart from you.”
She pulled back and stared up at him, her breath coming in hot, short bursts. Her growing need swirled and mixed with his own. She was utterly perfect. Utterly his.
Chapter Seventeen
Lucy swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. She couldn’t bear to be apart from him either. Not when she felt his desire like a hot brand against her hip. Not when the musky scent of his desire teased her nose.
Coarse, callused fingers brushed her skin as he nimbly unfasted one button after another. The balsam and clove and pure sex smell of him embraced her in a deliciously wicked hug. His warmth sank into her, heating her from outside in, fanning the flames of her own arousal. It made her ache and her pussy throb, her body desperate for his touch.
It was almost more than she could bear. To have a man this gorgeous—this masculine, attentive, and powerful—drinking her in like she was the sweetest dessert… It made her want all the more.
She’d been with men in the past—boyfriends who’d claimed to love her and the odd one-night stand—but she’d never felt like this. None of them touched her—looked at her—as if they craved her more than air in their lungs. Or looked at her like she was so precious she should be worshiped and admired.
It felt so good and yet was so very, very bad. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into his trap. Whatever Mason said about mates, she couldn’t get used to this feeling of being desired, craved. Like she was something to be savored and cherished. As if she had value beyond measure.
Because when he was gone? She didn’t think she could ever find someone who made her feel so much ever again. He was a one in a million type of man. Someone to be trusted. Someone she could… love.
With that thought came the urge to pull away. The need to tell him it was all too much. It poked and prodded her to save her heart. Run. Hide. But then she lifted her gaze to his and it all… fell away. Those terrible doubts fell away as she fell into a molten puddle in his arms.
Mason lowered his head, toned, firm lips scorching her skin as he caressed her lips and then teased the line of her jaw. He continued, mouth dancing over her skin until he reached the space right below her ear. A tremble of desire slithered through her with that touch, a zing of arousal spearing her.
His talented fingers brushed the underside of her bra, calluses scraping the delicate silk and lace. Lucy sighed and leaned into him, needing to feel the hard planes of his body against her curves. His hand delved beneath the fabric of her bra, pads of his fingers ghosting over the stiff peak of her sensitive nipple.
Lucy rolled her shoulders, allowing her shirt to slide down her arms and fall to the floor. Mason didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the added room, his free hand sliding to her back. A quick twist undid the clasp of her bra and then that too tumbled to the ground. Those teasing, scorching kisses paused just long enough for him to draw back to stare down at what he’d just revealed.
She followed his line of sight, a sliver of self-consciousness easing into her blood for a moment—her soft stomach and large breasts nothing like the toned women of the pack. But he merely licked his lips, eyes brightening to amber, and pulled his lips back in a wicked smile.
Mason massaged her breast, cupping the fullness and rubbing his thumb back and forth across her hardened nipple. He scraped the firm nub with his thumbnail and she shivered with his touch.
“You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined.” His lips ghosted over the shell of her ear. “And I imagined a lot.”
Lucy grinned and turned her head, lips tingling with the need to taste him—explore every inch of his body. Only to have him nudge her away.
“Not tonight. Tonight I’m going to make you happy. Very, very happy.” As if to prove his point, his touch went to her shorts and he quickly unbuttoned them before lowering the fly.
“I guess you have experience taking shorts off me,” she teased.
“I do.” He flashed her a grin. “But this time I get to look.” Without another word, he dropped to his knees and tugged on her shorts. The fabric clung to her hips for a moment before sliding down her thighs and falling into a heap at her feet.
Mason’s breath caught, his attention wholly on Lucy’s pussy. Or rather, the sheer white panties that barely shielded her from his gaze.
“Lucy,” he whispered her name ever so softly. “Did you dress up for me?” He glanced at her but before she could form a snappy comeback, his mouth was on her skin. He teased her inner thighs, nudging her gently so she would spread her legs for him.
Mason lapped at her skin—soft, gentle licks over her warming flesh as he ventured north. She shivered with every searing kiss, every tormenting caress of his tongue on her body. Her nipples hardened even further, the need surging through her like a punishing wave of desire.
Why had she said she couldn’t mate him, again? Whatever her reasons, they seemed insignificant now. Like nothing in the face of the devastating pleasure Mason could cause. And fuck, she knew it’d be good. So very, very good. There was no way this man wouldn’t make her scream his name while she forgot her own.
She opened her mouth to… what? Beg? Plead? Promise damn near anything if he’d just touch
her already? And then… then he did. His strong hands rose to tease the hem of her panties, talented digits dipping beneath the elastic to torment her sensitive skin.
“Mason,” she whispered. A soft plea for more.
He silently denied her, mouth dipping low once more as he ignored where she needed him most. He returned to the inside of her thighs, teasing them with the same fierce determination he’d shown before.
It’d turned into torture now. To watch him, over six feet of hardened muscle and sexy man fully dressed as he kissed her. As he edged nearer and nearer to her aching pussy. She at least wanted to rip his clothing from his body, watch his rippling muscles as he gripped her thighs. Watch his thick cock surging into her wet sheath, claiming her with his body.
She wet her lips and other imaginings filled her mind. The thought of taking him into her mouth rising above all others. She’d lick him slowly, lap at the salty liquid on the tip of his cock before taking him deep once more. Slow and steady at first, then taking more, moving faster and faster until his knees went weak and he begged for mercy.
She smiled with those wicked thoughts, her core pulsing and clit twitching with the erotic imaginings. Only to have the day dream wiped from existence when his talented lips found the hem of her panties once more. Not just lips. His tongue traced the edge of lace and she shuddered with the promise of pleasure.
“Mason,” she panted and moaned, that tongue giving her a promise of more, but not quite yet.
Except this time he seemed to understand, seemed to know that he’d pushed her to the edge of her control. Mason’s mouth abandoned her but only for a moment. Just long enough for deft fingers to take the place of his tongue. For him to tug the scrap of silk and lace aside and bare her wet pussy to the room’s cool air. He exposed her wet, needy flesh, body trembling in anticipation of what was to come. He pursed his lips and leaned forward, brushing a soft, sweet, and all too brief kiss across her sex lips. And no matter how chaste the kiss, that single caress lit the flames of her desire more than any man in her past.
She couldn’t wait for him to finally take her into his arms. To wrap around her and consume her with his desire until she fainted from the pleasure. Hell, she’d probably die.
Mason hooked his thumbs beneath the waist of her panties and gave a gentle tug, the silk tracing her hips before they tumbled to the ground. A raw, carnal growl vibrated through the air, rumbles sinking into her and forcing her desire to climb even higher.
“Absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed deeply and groaned. “I can’t wait to spread your thighs and see every last inch of you.”
“But not before I get a chance to unwrap you.” Her voice was more coarse and needy than she’d ever heard it before.
Mason pushed to his feet in a single fluid move, his gaze never leaving hers. She sensed his indecision combating his desire and all-consuming hunger, and he finally shook his head—denying her.
“Not yet.” He shook his head.
“But I want…”
“I know what you want.” He reached up and back, grabbing his shirt between his shoulder blades, and tugged, whipping the fabric over his head. “But tonight, this is all you get.”
Lucy drank him in, studying the chiseled contour of his pecs, abs, and even bulky triceps. He was more Greek god than human and she wondered if it was too late to change her mind. Too late to beg for all of him.
“Get back on the bed.” Mason’s voice was all grit and gravel. “Open those pretty thighs for me and if you’re a good girl, I’ll take off the rest.”
Lucy swallowed hard and then moved faster than she ever had in her life.
Once he had Lucy on the bed before him, body bared to his gaze, his mind raced with every fantasy he could conjure. Still, before he moved, he gave himself a moment to savor the sight of her—savor the blessing he’d received.
Because fuck if she wasn’t a blessing from God.
Her soft, creamy thighs were spread, revealing the pale pink sweetness that waited for him. Her pussy lips were flushed with arousal, that intimate part of her slick with proof of her desire. Even in the dim light of the room, he could see the glistening wetness on her folds. His mouth watered and he licked his lips, imagining the musky sweetness of her feminine cream as it slid over his taste buds.
Mason reached down and palmed his cock, giving himself a harsh squeeze to try and temper the harsh edge of his need. He ached to free himself, to sink into her over and over again until there was no telling their bodies apart.
He leaned down and prowled onto the bed, climbing between her thighs like a wolf on the hunt for sensual prey. In truth, he was a beast searching out a meal to sate his need. What the beast craved, it caught, and his next meal was laid out before him. He reached for her silken thighs, hands grasping her plump, soft flesh. He massaged her gently, taking his time to stare at Lucy, his gaze raking over the soft curve of her exposed breasts and pebbled nipples.
How many times had he imagined this moment? Having his mate splayed in front of him, ready and willing? Probably too many to count, and still his fantasies paled in comparison to the woman in front of him now.
“Mason,” she whined. “You’re driving me crazy.”
He wanted to laugh. Her desperation could only be a fraction of his own. The pounding of his heart, the answering throb of his cock, was nearly too much to bear. Still, he held his breath and reminded himself that tonight was for Lucy.
Tonight, she’d know ecstasy in a way she could never have imagined. His fangs descended at the thought and he growled low to himself, a reminder to keep his wolf in check. There would be time for more—for everything—later.
With one final glance at her incredible body, he lowered himself to the bed, lying between her spread thighs. He moved to his left first, kissing his way up her leg, pausing to lap at her skin and savor those sweet flavors. He eased higher, drawing nearer to that space he was drawn to, but he forced himself to turn to his right instead. He repeated the process, licking and nuzzling her flushed skin, breathing deeply and memorizing the intricate scent of her arousal.
With every lick, the scent of her desire clouded the air more and more. It intoxicated him, begging him without words to find her core and lap up every droplet of her cream.
She arched and writhed at his touch, twisting her hips and moving her body as if to force him to move where she needed him. She whimpered and whined as he traveled along her thighs, reaching the crease where her leg met her hips. So close to her pussy, right at that delicate skin. He nuzzled her, breathing deeply and savoring her musky scent.
His cock throbbed in his pants, the pulsing ache matching his heartbeat and sending a thumping need scorching through his veins. His balls were heavy between his legs, filled with cum he ached to spill into Lucy. Fill her with his scent, claim her with his body in every way possible.
But not yet. Soon, but not yet.
For now, he’d cherish everything she gave him. He turned his head, moving that last inch until her closely cropped curls teased the tip of his nose. Her wet slit was there and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He lapped at her soft, sweet core, gathering every hint of her salty-sweet musk. He tasted her hot, wet need, and she bucked against his lips.
“Mason,” she breathed out with a long sigh, but his next move turned that into a deep moan. He found her clit—that aching bundle of nerves swollen against his lips—and he circled the hard nub with his tongue. He flicked the small bit of flesh, movement hummingbird fast as he drove her pleasure higher and higher. She gripped the sheets, tugging and pulling on them with her white-knuckled grip.
He hummed, circling her over and over until she moved her hips in time with his mouth, silently willing him not to stop. She craved more and he wanted to be the one to give her all she desired.
Just not yet.
Mason eased away from her clit, giving it a last, sensuous lick before moving on to explore her feminine folds.
“I need,” she panted. �
��I need, I need…”
He knew what she needed as if they were one. He eased two fingers inside her slick channel, closing his eyes as her inner walls quaked around him. She ground into his touch, seeking out additional pleasure. He withdrew and pushed inside her once more, savoring her every moan and cry. He allowed a rumbling growl to come forward and flicked his tongue out to slowly circle her throbbing clit. The vibrations traveling into her, Lucy cried out with a soft gasp and a sharp yell.
“That’s it,” he paused to murmur. “Show me how much you like it.”
And she did. She rode his hand like she couldn’t get enough, like she couldn’t live without his touch. He imagined what she’d do to his cock when he finally shoved himself inside her. Harder and faster, she worked his fingers while he licked and teased her clit. He met her stroke for stroke as the rolling of her hips became desperate and frenzied.
It took everything in him not to tear his pants from his body, grip his cock, and jerk his dick in time with her every movement. He wouldn’t claim her—wouldn’t violate her trust—but fuck his body ached. But there was no time to do anything. Lucy hovered on the brink, her body trembling as she approached release.
Mason curled his fingers, teasing that spot inside her sheath, while he gave her clit one long lick and then sucked hard on the sensitive button. Lucy screamed long and loud, his name on her lips while she slammed her hands against the bed. She whimpered as her walls shuddered and quaked around his fingers, so hard and fast he thought she might break them.
“That’s it, baby.” He slowed his attentions, easing her back to earth until the final shudders attacking her subsided. He eased his fingers free of her tight embrace and lifted his gaze to find her smiling at the ceiling. Eyes closed, skin glowing, her breaths came in long, slow pants.
