Wolf at the Door

by Christine Warren

  His arms tightened around her, and she couldn’t help but think about how fabulous it felt. A portion of her tension began to drain away, and she gave a contented sigh.

  “All right, Cassie love, we’ll wait till morning. But perhaps you’d be warmer waiting inside?”

  “Probably.” Her words came out muffled by cashmere.

  “Right, then. Up with you, mavourneen. I’ll tuck you in and let you get a good bit of rest. That’s what you need just now.” He didn’t give her a chance to weigh in, just hooked one arm behind her back, one under her knees, and swung her up in his embrace. “Get your keys, love. You’ll have to let us in.”

  She fumbled in her pocket and drew out the ring. It took a couple of tries to get the lock opened, but she finally managed it. The elevator and the halls were empty as he carried her to her apartment, waited for her to open that door as well, and then brought her directly to her bed. As he leaned down to deposit her on top of the duvet, Cassidy locked her arms around his neck and refused to let go. He resisted briefly before letting her tug him down beside her. Immediately, she curled up on her side with her head pillowed on his chest and her arm draped over him.

  “Comfy?” he asked, his voice smiling.

  “Mmm.”

  She heard the chuckle rumble deep inside his chest before he made any actual noise. It comforted her. Just having him there comforted her. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to analyze why, but she knew that the minute she’d seen him standing outside her building, the nastiness weighing her down had begun to ease. Now, lying beside him, listening to his heart beat in steady rhythm, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breath, she felt a peace she hadn’t expected after the day she’d had.

  He made such a comfortable pillow that she felt herself begin drifting into sleep. It made no sense to her cloudy mind to struggle, so she turned to burrow in closer and let the exhaustion take her.

  “Let go, sweetheart,” she heard just before unconsciousness claimed her. “I’ll take care of you. Just sleep.”

  Remarkably, she did.

  Cassidy had no concept of the time when she woke, but the apartment was pitch-black. She lay still for a moment, blinking as her eyes attempted to focus in the minimal light seeping from behind the window shades. She felt warm and drowsy, but something bothered her. It niggled at the back of her head until she couldn’t stand it. She hadn’t woken enough to remember the reason for it, but she knew she wanted a shower. Badly.

  Doing her best to move silently, she slipped out from under the arm that pinned her in place and padded toward the bathroom.

  She didn’t bother to turn on the lights, her eyes finding the shower in the darkness. She opened the taps and let the water heat while she stripped. She couldn’t remember why she was still dressed, and didn’t really want to. All she wanted was to get undressed, get under the hot spray, and get clean.

  The first needle-sharp spray scalded her, but she didn’t care. Let it boil the uncomfortable feeling of contamination off her skin. She raised her face to the water and let it pour over her, sluicing her discomfort down the drain.

  Traces of sleep still clung to her, making her drowsy and slow-moving, barely aware of anything outside the beating cone of water. Her eyes stayed closed and the patter of water on porcelain drowned out all other sounds. It felt like standing in a cocoon, warm and private and safe from the world beyond the shower curtain. Her mind shied away from thinking of why that was so important, and she didn’t force the issue. The foggy semiconsciousness she currently floated in was just fine with her. She could stay here for a while.

  She heard the scrape of the curtain rings against the rod in the back of her mind, but she didn’t react. It set off no alarms, so she continued to stand under the spray, still and silent. A set of muscular arms curled around her from behind and tugged her gently back against a warm, solid body. Her mouth curved in an instinctive smile and she leaned into the embrace, letting her head fall to rest on Quinn’s broad shoulder.

  He said nothing, just cuddled her closer and bent his head to kiss the curve of her neck. His tongue came out to taste the water beaded on her skin, and Cassidy sighed as her body stretched itself awake under his touch. Her nipples tightened despite the heat of the water, and she felt the muscles low in her belly tense in anticipation.

  A deep rumble shook against the curve of her shoulder, tickling her with gentle vibrations. She felt it against her back, too, through the thick veil of wet hair that separated them. She frowned. She didn’t like the idea of anything coming between them. Shifting, she leaned her upper body forward, which nestled her bottom more snugly against the hardness of his growing erection. She reached back to pull her hair from between them, draping it in a wet, silky rope over her shoulder. Quinn murmured his approval and pressed closer, letting her feel the solid presence of him down the length of her back.

  They fit together beautifully. Her head tucked neatly against his chest, and her soft curves yielded to his hard planes. Like yin and yang, they completed each other in a way Cassidy had never experienced before. He loomed behind her, so much larger that she felt surrounded by him, but the difference in their mass didn’t threaten her. It comforted her. He made her feel protected and secure and relaxed. It was as if her subconscious knew it didn’t have to keep alert with him nearby. She could drain away years of tension just by feeling a few minutes of the rise and fall of his chest.

  He pulled her out of her reverie with the slick glide of his hands against her skin. They slid over rivulets of water, one heading up her torso, between her breasts to rest possessively at the base of her throat. She felt the weight of it, the warmth of it seeping into her skin, and she relaxed more completely against him. His other hand traced a languid path over her ribs and belly, down to the vee of her thighs and cupped the tender curve of her mound.

  Hmm. Maybe she could be persuaded to wake up after all.

  She lifted one arm behind her to loop around his neck and pressed the other hand against his flank. Her hips arched under his hand, encouraging more. She heard a soft chuckle in her ear and then his fingers slid deeper, sifting through her curls to part her slick folds before halting abruptly.

  She made a small, frustrated noise and spread her thighs a little farther. Quinn’s mouth curved against her shoulder just before his lips parted and his teeth scraped over her suddenly hyper-aware skin. A shiver rocked through her, making her tremble in his arms. They flexed around her, and his exploring hand ventured farther, bypassing her clit to tease over her center. He found her entrance with a light touch and circled it, sliding through the moisture there and drawing even more from her body. She wept for him, and he seemed pleased with the discovery. She felt his head turn and the gentle-sharp press of his teeth as they closed over her earlobe.

  Cassidy’s hips shifted again, an involuntary action, winding small circles in an attempt to capture a more intimate touch. But Quinn would have none of it. He offered another chuckle instead and withdrew his hand completely.

  “Quinn . . .”

  His name tumbled from her lips, half a plea, half a protest. The arm around his neck tightened, and her fingers tangled in his hair to try and tug him to her.

  “Ah, ah. Be good, Cassie love.” His voice sounded husky with sleep and arousal, and his beguiling brogue held a trace of amusement. “If you abandoned a bed for a shower, you must have a desire to be clean, so let’s take care of that first.”

  The hand she wanted to have touch her again stretched out to grab the bar of unscented soap from the little rack in the corner. He pressed it between his two palms, rubbing to create a rich, white lather, and Cassidy’s anticipation suddenly edged out her disappointment. She could have sworn he moved in slow motion while he set aside the soap in preparation for putting his hands back on her.

  She gasped when they settled at her waist and began to stroke the slick foam over her skin. She felt the path of each finger creeping inch by sensitive inch up her torso. By the time they clos
ed around her breasts, she had stopped breathing. When the first touch came, she whimpered and leaned into it, pressing herself into his hands. He responded by flicking his thumbs over her ruched nipples. Her body tensed as if it had been hit with a bolt of lightning, and she felt just as electrified. A moan broke from her lips. She tried to turn to face him, wanting his mouth, but he tightened his grip to hold her in place.

  “Not yet,” he murmured, teeth nipping again at her ear. “I’ve not finished with you yet, love.”

  The idea of more of this torture brought a groan of mingled pleasure and dismay, but Quinn exhibited no intention of stopping his play anytime soon. He left her breasts with a fond squeeze and slid his soapy hands down over her chest, her stomach, and the silky length of her thighs. She kept waiting for them to slip between, where she most wanted them, but the Lupine was exhibiting a perverse desire to torture her.

  He ignored the parting of her legs, the pleading tilt of her hips, and clasped her behind the knee, raising one thigh and urging her to brace her foot against the cool, tiled wall.

  “Stay there.” His voice coasted over her water-slicked skin and sent a chill through her. “I’ll hold you, love. But keep still for me. There’s a girl.”

  She balanced herself on her other foot, leaning back against his chest for added support. Both of his hands closed around her leg, coating it with the last of the soapy suds. He worked the dwindling lather into her skin, down her calf to her foot, seeing that every inch of her was squeaky clean. All except the inches she really wanted him to pay attention to.

  He repeated the process and the orders on her other leg. Once he’d positioned her as he wanted her, though, he had to reach around her for more soap. She took advantage of the greater closeness to shift her hips with subtle precision, rocking her soft bottom against his erection. That earned her a strangled groan and the pleasure of feeling every inch of him tensing against her before he chuckled and swatted her flank.

  “Enough of that, saucy minx.” His hands clamped around her hips to still them, and he leaned down to press a kiss against her shoulder. “We’ll get there soon enough, but I’ve not finished with you yet.”

  She growled in protest, but held still while he tortured her with even more prolonged attention. She was about ready to hang by his neck, hook her other leg behind his knee, and beat him to the floor when his soapy hands slid up her calf and thigh and kept going. They insinuated themselves high between her thighs and parted her to the warm, steamy air.

  Cassidy trembled, her muscles tensing as she waited for his next move. She felt as if her very existence depended on how and when he touched her next. The seconds slowed to a crawl. She could have sworn that an hour passed before he settled one hand against the inside of her raised thigh and pressed to open it just a little more.

  She tried to say something, to give thanks, to shout encouragement, to moan, to do anything, but her breath froze in her throat and not even a whimper came out. It didn’t seem to matter to Quinn. He didn’t need the encouragement.

  He propped his chin on her shoulder and gazed down at her body. His hand slid through her swollen folds, coating them with thick lather. Her muscles tightened, if that were possible, and her body pulsed with desperation. Her mind focused only on the slow journey his fingers took over her most intimate terrain. He took his time exploring every ridge and valley, learning her like Braille, reading her desire and her need and her passion.

  Cassidy opened her eyes and turned her head to press her lips against his temple. Her chin dropped until she shared his view. She saw the dripping shape of her own body, her skin pale as always and drawn into gooseflesh, her nipples peaked so tightly they ached. His arm cut across her, darker in the darkness of the shower. Her night vision allowed her to clearly see where his hand disappeared between her thighs, and the sight sent her into another round of shivers.

  Quinn just pressed more firmly against her raised thigh to keep it from closing. She turned her head until she could see his face beside hers. He looked fascinated. His expression was intense and focused and utterly enthralled. She could read his excitement in the glint of his eyes and the subtle tightening of his facial muscles. Clearly he enjoyed touching her as much as she enjoyed being touched.

  Then his fingers shifted and “enjoy” ceased to apply.

  She felt his fingertips brush over her clit and watched the wicked grin that spread across his features as her hips jerked in instinctive response. Whimpering, she set her cheek against his and watched as he twisted his wrist and slid two long, slick fingers inside her.

  Oh, God!

  She heard a deep chuckle against her ear. “Nothing so lofty, sweet. But I appreciate the compliment.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d said that out loud. She felt heat climbing up her throat and into her cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the heat building against his exploring hand.

  “I take it that means you like when I do this.” He made some sort of arcane magic with his hand and the tips of his buried fingers scraped against her inner walls in a way that made her cry out—not a whimper, not even a moan. A real, genuine, “God I hope the neighbors can’t hear me” cry.

  “Quinn!” She choked out his name, her body bowed and trembling against him. “You’re killing me . . .”

  “And why should I do any such thing, Cassie love? I like you very much alive.”

  He allowed her sensitized internal flesh one last, teasing massage and slipped his fingers free. Cassidy moaned in protest and grabbed to keep his hand where it gave her so much pleasure.

  “Ah-ah,” he scolded, pressing her hands to her sides with gentle compulsion. “Be a good girl for me, love. You need to finish your bathing before we move on to play time.”

  The fog of arousal kept his meaning from reaching her. She stood there, wet and confused and desperately aroused while he played his little games with her. If she hadn’t been able to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing hard and hot against her bottom, she would have started to wonder if this wasn’t some kind of sick torture. As it was, it was still torture, but she was reserving judgment on the sick part until he finished with her.

  She refused to stoop to begging, and he’d reduced her to too much of a quivering mass for her to do anything else, so she just stood there and waited for his next move. Unfortunately for her, she’d allowed her eyes to drift shut while he had been busy between her legs, so she never saw it coming. He moved so fast that she had no warning between the time the hot shower spray stopped pounding down over them and the first pulsing jet of water hit her swollen clit.

  Cassidy nearly jumped over the curtain rod. Her eyes flew open, her head flew forward, and her heart flew into her throat. Her fingers clenched in Quinn’s hair, tugging hard, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he laughed softly and pressed her raised thigh farther open as he held the shower massage and directed the spray at her core.

  She tried to close her legs. The sensation was just too strong, but Quinn held her mercilessly in place.

  “You . . . you . . . you’re . . . a . . . demon. God!” She squirmed her hips, trying to avoid the mind-numbing pressure of the spray, but he followed her every move. “Stop torturing me and . . . ah!”

  He had her where she couldn’t even complete a sentence. Damn it, she was going to get him for this.

  “Now, now, none of that, Cassie love.” The hand that had been resting on her throat slid down and pressed against her belly to still her frantic movements against his erection. She could feel him twitching and got a grim satisfaction from knowing at least she wasn’t alone in the unbearable-arousal department. “Had to get you all clean and rinsed. No one likes the chafing of dried soap in these tender spots.”

  He angled the force of the spray just behind her clit and Cassidy screamed. She could not take this anymore.

  Slipping her free hand over his hip and insinuating it between their bodies, she searched blindly for his erection. Her fingers curled possessively around the s
haft and squeezed. The spray between her legs bobbled off course and a rough groan tore from his chest, echoing in her ear. She turned her head to glare at him and saw his head thrown back and his face pulled taut in a battle for self-control. She meant to see he lost it.

  She shifted just enough to the side to press her lips to his ear. “I’m washed, I’m rinsed, and I’m ready, so unless you get inside me within the next ten seconds, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you wish you had.”

  Quinn blew out a harsh chuckle and shifted his hold around her waist. “Heaven forbid.”

  With a quick upward heave, he lifted her clean off her feet, raised her above his waist, and urged her hips back into a receptive angle. It took her all of seven nanoseconds to decipher and approve his plan. She shifted her grip on his cock and guided him to her entrance, not letting go until he gave a warning growl and thrust forward with heavy force.

  He filled her in a single stroke. Cassidy heard his muffled roar and answered with a strangled scream of her own. The water still pounded relentlessly between her legs, but she couldn’t have cared less. He was too distracted to keep his aim, and she was too enthralled with the opening and stretching sensation of having him inside her to notice. Her need had built to a fever pitch, and she could no longer wait for him to make the next move. She needed more. Now.

  Jackknifing forward, Cassidy thrust her hips back hard and slapped her palms against the tile wall in front of her for leverage. The force of her movement slid Quinn so deep she swore she could feel him in the back of her throat. The head of his cock nudged her cervix and sent shock waves coursing through her. The sensations overwhelmed her and intensified her cravings.

  She used the leverage of her hands against the wall to work herself back and forth on his erection. She heard high, sharp whimpering sounds as if from a great distance and realized vaguely that she was the one making them. Not that she cared. All she cared about were the feelings of need and hunger and sublime joy that filled her as they moved together in the steamy heat of the shower.