Fur, Fangs and All (The Elementals Book 2)

by Meredith Allen Conner

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. She gasped, wiggling beneath him.

  He settled more of his weight on her.

  His heart clenched at her anguished whimper, but he didn’t move.

  “Livie?”

  She nodded. She could hear him. Immediately he moved, setting his hands next to her shoulders and his knees alongside her thighs. She continued to cry softly.

  Accept me, damn it.

  His claws bit into the mattress, muscles strained across his back. He grit his teeth. He would not turn.

  He leaned down, nudging her neck with his nose, drawing her in, soothing himself with her scent. He didn’t lick her yet afraid it would destroy his tenuous control.

  She flinched and he growled once in warning.

  If she fought him again, he would have to tie her up. Too conflicted right now, he would not be able to do what he needed to without hurting her.

  Why can’t you accept me?

  “I’m going to lick your wounds, Livie.” She shook her head frantically. “Yes.” He snapped. “I can heal you that way. You won’t heal as quickly as if we were mated, but you will heal much faster.”

  “You . . .” She broke off. “You won’t try to . . . mate with me?”

  She truly thought him an animal in every sense of the word. If she could only see herself . . . to think he would want to take her now, while she was in such pain . . . “No,” he snarled.

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He would turn completely if she said anything else.

  He started at her forehead, the gash there fairly deep. He lapped at the wet blood around the edges first. Drawing his tongue gently over the heart of the cut, he allowed the anesthetic chemicals in his saliva to numb the area before he probed inside. She sucked in a sharp breath, he paused, sniffing to make certain she was not in pain then he continued. He held her essence on his tongue, savoring it, reveling in the taste of her.

  His cock swelled. The heady aroma of her blood and the stormy perfume of Livie filled his senses. His heart beat heavily in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to spread her legs wide and thrust inside of her, all the way in until she could no longer deny that he was a part of her.

  He lifted his head. She’d closed her eyes, breathing in soft shallow pants. A faint blush bloomed just under her bruised skin.

  I am an animal.

  How could he be so aroused with his mate injured below him? He laved her face with soft swipes of his tongue in silent apology. He had failed her.

  He moved lower, seeking out each and every bruise and scrape. Her sharp collarbones, the tender insides of arms, the fleshy padding on her palms – he found each spot. He drew the fingers of her left hand into his mouth, sucking firmly.

  He caught her right hand and repeated the procedure. He held her fingers, one by one, deep inside of his mouth, swirling his tongue around each digit, up and down the surface and then drawing it further in.

  He twisted her arm so he could see the intricate tattoo on the surface of her skin. The mark lay dormant and dark right now, a delicate design showing no hint of the awesome force it could unleash.

  He pressed a soft kiss over the brand, tightening his grip when she gasped and tried to pull away. Roc held her arm against him refusing to let her go. This was the one tie between them that she acknowledged. She couldn’t deny that he had sparked her power. If she accepted that bond, she would eventually yield to the rest of it, to him. Like any predator, Roc knew how to track down his prey.

  She remained stiff and unyielding for a moment then she shuddered, her body relaxed, surrendering to him.

  It took every ounce of his control not to pounce on her right then. His beast rose up, whispering to him. She submitted to him.

  Take her. Mate.

  God, he had just begun. How was he going to restrain himself?

  Running his tongue softly over her mark one last time, he moved over to her upper chest. He eased his way over several scratches on the slope of her breast. Gently tending her silky skin, he turned his head to reach a different spot. His jaw rubbed her hard nipple.

  Roc froze. Livie moaned, her back arched slightly. He jerked his head up. Both of her nipples were drawn up into tight points, the areolas puckered and flushed a darker color. He traced upwards with his eyes, following the sweet blush under her skin to the rapid beat of her pulse along her neck.

  Rumbling deeply in the back of his throat, he rubbed his cheek over one of her hardened nipples. Her arousal flooded his senses.

  He licked the taut point, reveling in her soft moan. She wanted him.

  He began to draw her deep into his mouth just as her hands pushed at his shoulders.

  “Stop,” she cried out. “I’m not hurt there.” She twisted beneath him. “You said you wouldn’t . . . you wouldn’t mate with me.”

  Roc lifted his head. He took in her parted lips and the slightly frantic look in her eyes. She wanted to deny it, did she? Her body trembled under him and he knew that despite the pain from her injuries, if he pressed his hand between her legs he would find her wet.

  So far, Livie had proved remarkably adept at denying him. But he had her naked, vulnerable and at his mercy right now. Alone and on the run for so long, her body craved physical touch. He knew this. Felt it every time he touched her – the automatic stiffening and then the subtle reach before her mind caught up with her.

  She hated exposing her weaknesses. She refused to give an inch.

  If you’re dead it will all go away.

  He snarled.

  ****

  Livie held her breath. Dark flecks sprung to life in his eyes. Would he stop?

  Something very disturbing flashed across his face, just before he shifted to the edge of her breast and began that slow glide of wet heat across her skin.

  She bit her lip. How much more of this could she take? She didn’t want him to lick her wounds. Disgusting. Just another sign of his animal side.

  Their first meeting still played through her mind in high definition. The spine-tingling fear, the heavy weight of his body on hers, his tongue swirling over her face and her body’s unwilling response.

  However, it had worked. He had been able to heal her wounds with his touch. She’d thought, at first, it would be worth it to end the pain shrieking along her body as long as he did not force her to have sex with him. She’d thought wrong.

  If he didn’t stop soon, she would be doing the forcing. She gasped at another long swipe.

  Concentrate. He is licking my blood. That is just . . . Ah . . . it’s just so . . . Cheeze-its, how can it be this good?

  Everywhere he touched, the pain went away. Even the muscle tearing pain in her shoulder had diminished, leaving behind nothing, but the feel of him touching her.

  Each soft glide of his hot, slightly rough tongue sent ripples tingling across her skin. At first she’d thought the room was too hot or too cold, but as he moved to her hands she realized what she felt had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with him.

  He sucked on her finger and she imagined him tugging on other parts of her body. Her stomach clenched with every pull until she thought she would scream. Then he kissed her Elemental sign. She wanted to deny him, refuse the connection between them, but she couldn’t. And he hadn’t let go until she gave in.

  Her mother not only let her go, she’d hated every part of her. Yet this man, this werewolf, claimed her as his.

  He wanted her.

  Then he lapped at her breast, sucking on her nipple. If she hadn’t called out, she would have pulled him onto her.

  She had to ignore the pleasure and concentrate on the fact that he was healing her injuries with his tongue.

  He followed a long abrasion down her side. The pain melted away. She bit back the moan as he carefully went over the area again, not missing a single centimeter, holding her with his big hands, twisting her slightly for better access, his grip just as gentle as his tongue.

  The strength in his hands a
mazed her. She’d seen the things he could do, the battle he had already waged on her behalf. He had broken bones with those hands. Yet he was tender with her.

  She’d tried her best to kill him. He could break her with no effort, but instead he held her gently. His hands so large they spanned her waist front and back, his rough fingertips kneading her as if he relished the feel of her.

  He twisted her some more, lifting her hip higher, which forced her weight into her bad shoulder. She tensed, but the nauseating pain didn’t come. Like a week old bruise, the muscles winced then relaxed.

  He probed at her prominent hip bone. She blushed. How could he even want me? I’m a damn bag of bones.

  More heat flowed through her and she tried to wiggle away. He firmed his grip. Completely embarrassed, Livie buried her head in the pillow. “Stop,” she wailed. “You can’t . . .”

  The wet brand of his tongue licked slowly down her hip, along the curve of her cheek then across the soft mound. Each raspy lash over her sensitive skin sent heady shivers up her spine.

  Good god, he is kissing my ass.

  “Stop,” she tried again.

  “No.” He murmured, his breath blew over her. “I’m not stopping until I’ve found every cut and bruise.” His voice lowered, “Not until I’ve licked away each injury.” He drew his tongue down the divide between her cheeks. Livie gasped. “Don’t make me tie you down, Livie.”

  Her stomach clenched at his deep, rough voice. Moisture pooled between her legs. She didn’t want to be tied down, but the image of herself spread out, tied down and completely at his mercy wouldn’t go away.

  She wouldn’t have to admit then that she liked this. Liked this? Most of the pain was gone, but she didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want him to ever stop touching her.

  But he’s a werewolf. An animal.

  Yes, a werewolf who took care of her, who healed her injuries the only way he could and didn’t flinch at protecting her. He fought the bastards, the men, who wanted to hurt her.

  But . . .

  Livie sucked in a sharp breath. He turned her onto her back, moving over the top of her thigh. She pressed her fist to her mouth. He could smell her arousal. She knew it. He could smell scents from miles away, this close . . .

  She should stop him.

  She held her breath.

  Roc traced a line down her leg, to her knee. Good, it’s a good thing. Maybe if she kept repeating it, she would believe it. When had her attraction to him overcome her fear? She could scarcely believe she had admitted to the attraction between them.

  He lapped his way all the way down to her foot. A touch on her arch had her gasping and flexing her foot. His teeth scraped lightly along her heel. Livie hissed in surprise. He had been very careful to keep his teeth away from her until then. He did it again. Electric pulses raced up her leg to her clit.

  It’s his teeth on my heel. Get a grip.

  The graze of his teeth across her skin should remind her of his animal. She didn’t like his animal, she . . .

  Roc switched feet, cupping her other heel in his large, rough hand. He pressed his mouth into her sensitive arch and bit down lightly.

  Livie nearly jumped off the bed. She moaned, jerking her head up. As if he had been waiting, he caught her gaze with his. Her foot appeared tiny in his grasp, pale and fragile compared to his swarthy brawn.

  Holding her with the dark fire in his eyes, he licked softly, each stroke of his tongue building the fire inside of her. She trembled with the need to pull him down until his big body covered her completely. His weight pressing her deep into the mattress, his naked flesh touching her, his hard to her soft.

  Watching her closely, Roc bit again. Like a live wire, her entire body arched. Fine trembles started all over. He lifted her leg, following the muscle along her calf to the back of her knee. He drew his tongue over the sensitive skin there.

  Livie bit her lip. She had to stop this. Now. She didn’t have an injury at the back of her knee. In fact, thanks to his care, she couldn’t feel any of her wounds at all. The bleeding had stopped completely.

  Which meant she needed to put a stop to this right now. She couldn’t allow this to continue, there was too much at stake.

  Roc lowered her leg, easing his way to the top of her lower thigh. Her leg shook, he cupped it between his two big hands, rubbing his cheek along the inside of her thigh, rumbling softly.

  Something inside of her shattered. A dark, deeply embittered part that she’d shoved deep down simply broke into tiny pieces and vanished.

  My mate.

  When had anyone ever cared for her like this?

  Seeming to sense her weakening, Roc shifted his shoulders, forcing her thighs wide. Livie cried out, emotions rioting, his unexpected move created a physical exposure she wasn’t ready for.

  She looked down to see him staring at the vulnerable juncture between her legs. Flushing red, she reached down to push him away.

  Roc growled at her. He gripped the inside of her thighs and shoved them apart, exposing her even more. She tried to squeeze her legs together, but he leaned down, blocking her move with his body. His shoulders pressed into her thighs, keeping her wide open.

  He was so close, she could feel his hot breath. He inhaled deeply and she knew he was drawing in the scent of her arousal. More embarrassed than she could ever remember, Livie pushed at his shoulders again, squirming backwards at the same.

  He wrapped his arms under her thighs, hooking his hands over the tops of her legs, pushing her upwards and closer to him at the same time. He growled deeply. The vibrations raced up her legs and stomach, circling her opening and flowing inside until she swore they hit her womb.

  So this is why women use vibrators.

  She shuddered. The feelings so intense she thought she might explode. Then he traced her opening with one large, blunt finger.

  His finger slid easily through the thick moisture coating her. He went round and round, slowly, not dipping inside, just a careful, deliberate rimming.

  Livie squirmed against the flood of sensations bombarding her. She wanted to lift her hips, increase the pressure. She needed him to push inside of her with his finger, then add another thick finger and another. At the same time, it shocked her completely. He was right there, looking at her, seeing and smelling the evidence of her arousal.

  She didn’t have time to draw another breath before he used his other hand to spread her lips. Now he could see every naked inch.

  His finger left her opening to slide up and over her exposed clit. He drew his finger around it, making her gasp. She knew he watched his finger as he touched her. She followed his eyes with her own.

  The very idea thrilled her. Laid completely bare before him, she should by all rights be mortified. She hated being vulnerable and yet, listening to his groans and even his animalistic purrs, a part of her thrilled to his obvious desire.

  Warm air caressed her half a second before his rough tongue washed over her. Livie shot upwards. He hummed, pulsating over the tight little bud. She shrieked.

  She thrust her fingers into his long hair, tangling the silky strands around her fingers. She tugged at the same time she tried to arch up.

  Forget getting away. If he keeps that up I might . . .

  He tightened his grip on her legs and shook his head, brushing her inner thighs with soft feather like touches. The strength in his hands as he controlled her tightened the muscles in her stomach. She hated to be controlled, but, ah, the way he did it . . . she wanted to fight harder just so he would overpower her some more.

  She twisted more of his hair in her grip, urging him closer. Tension wound tighter and tighter centering at her clit. He closed his lips over her, sucking.

  “Roc!” she screamed.

  Her climax roared through her, pulsing and ebbing, wrenching the pleasure so high it bordered on pain. Her vision flashed white.

  Ever so slowly, the spasms began to lessen.

  Roc sucked hard on her.

 
Livie yelled as another climax hit her without any warning, the ripples so strong, she felt as if they were tugging at her soul.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gasping, her body trembling from head to toe, Livie couldn’t find the energy to move.

  Cheeze-its, those magazines were right. That was amazing.

  Her hands floated in the air. Wow. She’d climaxed so strongly, she thought she could actually fly.

  Who knew?

  “Can you let go of my hair?”

  Words drifted over her ears, like little birds possibly speaking English, but she wasn’t up to making any bets right now. Maybe in a few days, after . . .

  “Livie?”

  The bird had a really deep voice.

  She fluttered her eyes open. She had to see the kind of bird that sounded like that. She stared at the ceiling. No little birds flying around.

  Sharp teeth pressed into her thigh.

  “Ouch!” She jerked her head up to meet Roc’s swirling brown eyes.

  Oh shit.

  “Your fingers are caught in my hair.”

  Blushing deep red and suddenly extremely self-conscious, Livie attempted to untangle her fingers. The silky stuff refused to let go. Every time she unwound one strand, another seemed to wrap around her fingers like little magnets following a charge. She couldn’t move, her legs were held tight and if she sat up she would press his face smack dab into her lap.

  Where he had just been.

  Hell, his wicked tongue and fingers . . . oh good lord, as much as she enjoyed what just happened, she wasn’t ready to do it again. Cripes, what had she been thinking?

  Oh right. Nothing.

  She didn’t like him. She just had sex – okay not necessarily full penetration, but a spade was still a spade. Or in this case a cock was still a . . . no that didn’t fit either. Fit. Cheeze-its, how could she have let things go this far? He would never fit. She didn’t often adhere to the fair is fair credo, but even she could see how terribly wrong the whole experience had been.

  She didn’t exactly hate him anymore. She couldn’t – not after he had cared for her. She didn’t even want to kill him anymore. But she certainly hadn’t meant for that to happen.