What a Wolf Wants (Black Hills Wolves Book 2)

by Long, Heather

  Ryker was a wolf?

  Chapter Five

  Ryker didn’t slow once on the way back to the cabin, nor did he say anything. Once inside, he stripped her out of her clothes in front of the fire for the second time—apparently, they were going to repeat a number of actions. He tossed more wood into the fireplace before vanishing into the bathroom. When he returned, he had a heavy towel. He rubbed her from her feet up, gently drying and warming her icy skin as he went.

  When he reached her shoulders, his dark gaze locked on hers. Her stomach bottomed out. “You’re a wolf.”

  “Yes.” He nodded and then, with absolute gentleness, he dried her hair—it had been damp when she’d run from him….

  “You killed the other wolf.” Again, there was a strange thrill of it spiraling up from her belly even as her stomach flip-flopped.

  After pausing, he stroked the damp strands away from her face. The gentleness in his touch wrenched at her heart. “Yes.”

  Swallowing hard, Saja tried to string the facts together in a more orderly equation than one plus five times pie equaled pancakes. Ryker was a wolf. “Was that…the man who came here this morning?”

  The other had been angry. Hard to miss the tension spiking in the room when she’d entered. It had been thick.

  “No.” Ryker tugged her closer to the fire. The warmth of the flames added another layer to the heat burning her up from the inside. He knelt down, running his fingers over one leg then the other. Time slowed under his careful caress. He gripped her hips, turning her slightly, then repeated the gentle exploration along the backs of her legs, her buttocks, and she forgot for a moment to breath.

  This close, she could almost imagine his lips following the same path as his fingers. Belatedly, she realized he was looking for injuries. “But”—she tried to herd her scattering thoughts back to the present—“the other wolf was like you?”

  Her nipples constricted painfully in the chill. He stood, pulling her back against him and wrapping his arms around her. So surrounded by him, the lingering cold vanished in a wash of pure flame. He rested a cheek against the side of her head, his lips on the shell of her ear. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She shivered, and he tightened his grip. It was surreal. Werewolves did not exist.

  Except when they did.

  The hard length of male pressed up against her back decried any possibility that he wasn’t real. But…. “That’s why you’re out here in the middle of nowhere? So no one else knows.”

  “Yes.” He grazed her ear with his teeth this time. Another shudder would have had her falling if not for his support.

  “Okay. Are you trying to make me forget I saw?” Because if so, he was doing a damn fine job of it.

  “No.” Warm eddies of his breath teased her skin as he trailed his mouth down her throat. She tilted her head, allowing the touch—he bit the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. The tingling sensation exploded through her. She clamped her thighs together at the rush of dampness.

  “What are you doing, then?” It took effort to squeeze each word out as he flattened a palm across one breast, as his teeth sharpened against her neck. It hurt but not in a rending way—the pain sharpened in the static jerkiness of her thoughts. Everything in her focused on him.

  “Mine,” he whispered, then licked the spot he’d bitten. The burn in her chest blossomed brighter, fiercer this time, spreading like the petals of a flower. Saja reached back with a tentative hand to wrap around the nape of his neck. Hanging on seemed to make sense because he continued his lazy exploration of her chest, the roughness of his palms leaving tingling awareness in their wake, and each time he glided over a nipple, she let out a little whimper.

  “Okay.” The word shook, and her sanity threatened to collapse. She had no idea what, if any, correct response to mine should be, but the tautness of Ryker’s muscles relaxed at her answer. “Um…not that I’m objecting to the hot-and-heavy, full-throttle petting here.” His stroking hands dipped deliciously lower, smoothing across her abdomen, and if he went much farther south…. She swallowed. “We should probably talk.”

  “About?” He kissed her throat, grazing a pulse point with his teeth, not enough to hurt at all, but more than enough to tantalize. Her thoughts scattered.

  “I don’t…I don’t have sex with a lot of people. I mean I haven’t…. I’m not that girl that sleeps around.”

  “Good.” Then he bit her, again.

  The hard draw of his mouth on her flesh sent a fresh wave of liquid heat to pool between her legs, torching her train of thought. She rubbed her ass against his denim, the fabric adding another layer of sensation. The length of his erection couldn’t be missed. He growled against her shoulder. The frantic beat of her heart doubled, yet she stilled.

  Ryker. Wolf. Wolf. Ryker. Don’t tease him. Despite the rational advice, she wanted to move. More, she wanted him to keep touching her. She was so not into pain, except his bite turned her inside out.

  “I’m not going to tell anyone.” It would be next to impossible at the moment, but she wasn’t an idiot. If the world knew there were werewolves, they’d hunt them. If the world doesn’t know, what’s to stop them from hunting me?

  “I know.” Deep in the guttural tone came another hint of gentleness. The warmth along her back abandoned her as Ryker easily broke her hold to turn her around. His hand came around her throat. She lifted her chin. Considering what he’d done in the woods, this was a violently vulnerable position to be in. “Look at me.”

  Obeying him proved harder than she’d imagined, but she tried. His eyes had gone wolf. Dark gold with heavy black slits in the center, they were gorgeous—intoxicating. “Wow.”

  He gave her neck a squeeze, the barest amount of pressure. It didn’t scare her, far from it. Like the bite, it turned her on. She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Yeah, she didn’t wonder what direction his thoughts took, but she’d never been an aggressive lover. She had no idea where to start with him.

  Bad boy didn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Mine,” he began.

  “You said that already,” she whispered, biting her lip when he growled. The rumble of it sent a thrill skittering up her spine. “And I’ll shut up now.”

  A smile softened his mouth. “Mine to keep, mine to possess, mine to protect—if you agree.” But he didn’t let her answer, shifting his grip to put his thumb against her lips. “Mine for life. Mating is for life.”

  Oh.

  The pad of his thumb was rough as he stroked it over her lower lip.

  “If you say yes…you cannot say no later.” Something different echoed in his words. Saja frowned. “Humans cannot know about us. Ever. It’s the law.”

  “But I know now….” Did her knowing mean he was in trouble? She gripped his forearm.

  “You do.” Regret? Was he sad she knew? He was so hard to read. Beautiful, noble, intelligent, and impossibly hard to read—except he was worried.

  “So, if I’m your mate, that’s okay for me to know?” Nothing says let’s make a lifelong commitment like breaking a law she didn’t know existed about creatures—no, Ryker wasn’t a creature. He was a man. Yes, he was a beautiful wolf, too, but he was also a man.

  He didn’t answer immediately.

  Her breath backed up in her lungs. “Will you be in trouble since I know?”

  “Yes.” He sighed then leaned his forehead to rest against hers. The nearness comforted, and she let go of his arm to touch his cheek. “I will make sure you are safe before they know.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He leaned into her touch. She wanted to pet him the way he’d caressed her. “You haven’t said yes.”

  “What if I say no?”

  The wolf eyes gazing at her unflinchingly darkened. “Then I will let you go.”

  “No, I meant what would happen to you?” Could he release her? Was it like being asked to wed or something more? It sure the hell felt like something
more. Her heart hurt when she even thought about saying no. Tears clogged her throat. She didn’t want to say no.

  “It won’t matter, as long as you are safe.” He caressed her neck then slid his hand around to fist in her hair. The barest of tugs, yet she felt it all the way to her soul.

  Not acceptable. She mirrored his stance and had to go up on her tiptoes to fist his hair, but he didn’t seem to mind because it pressed her to him chest-to-chest. “It matters to me. Because if I’m yours, then you’re mine, too.”

  Didn’t wolves mate for life? Wasn’t that the whole tragedy of Ladyhawke? If she said no, would he ever find another mate? A fresh wave of violence opened the door in her soul—she didn’t want him with another woman.

  Wolf.

  Whatever.

  “I’m not a wolf,” she told him.

  “I know.” He smiled, and her heart did another one of those nasty little somersaults, leaving her weak. She’d give anything to make him smile all the time.

  “I’ve known you for like twenty-four hours.” And that this wasn’t the craziest thing she’d ever decided on in a short space of time didn’t make it any less intense.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He kissed her forehead. “You don’t have to say yes.”

  The burn in her chest turned to a lancing agony when he released her, and she lurched forward to seize his shirt. “Wait a minute…. I didn’t say no.”

  “You’re human,” he told her. While he didn’t make it sound like a terrible thing, she heard the quiet rejection. Deeper still, the hurt of it.

  A fist squeezed her heart, so she tore a page out of his book. “I know.” When she wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down, he came willingly. She had no idea what she was doing, but she went with it. Then bit the side of his throat. His arms convulsed, caging her up as she nipped him. “Yes.”

  Suddenly, her feet weren’t on the floor. Ryker moved. She landed on a bed a moment later, blinking. How the hell had she not known he had one of these?

  “You made me sleep in a chair?” It was huge, comfy, and covered in the softest fur blanket—which she realized had probably been an animal at some point.

  Just go with it.

  Ryker stripped off his shirt, and she forgot all about the chair. The blanket. The wolf thing.

  He was cut—everywhere—densely packed muscle that rippled with every movement. The bronze skin stretched taut, and when he stripped out of his jeans, she forgot to breathe. The man was gorgeous. She was—

  He didn’t let her complete the thought, sliding onto the bed after her.

  With a kiss to her ankle, he made a slow ascent until his lips brushed the soft skin on her inner thigh. She fell back onto her elbows. The ends of his long black hair teased her skin. She gave into temptation to run her fingers through it. He made a low sound in his throat—not quite a growl, but it turned her to putty all the same.

  After pressing a long, lingering kiss to the inside of each thigh, he nudged her legs apart and set his mouth right against her clit. One hard stroke of his tongue had her seeing stars. The second one pushed her right to the edge. He laved at her like she was some kind of sweet treat. He teased at her pussy, tongue rasping, delving past the folds of flesh, and tasting. His hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, teasing— every touch set off explosions of pleasure.

  It was too much. Her thoughts dissolved into a groan of desire, spiraling higher with every stroke of his tongue. When she tugged at his hair, he caught her wrist, shackling it, and continued until pleasure ripped through her. When an embarrassing rush of dampness flooded through her, he growled again then locked his mouth onto her clit with one fierce tug that tossed her right over the edge. She was still riding the wave when he finally continued his ascent.

  Ryker kissed a path up her navel before pausing at her breasts. The cool air mixed with his hot breath, adding to the torment of her already aroused nipples. His teeth grazed the sensitive tips. She arched up, gasping. She writhed, trying to touch him as he did her, but he didn’t let her go, pinning her hands over her head while he played with her breasts.

  And that’s what he’s doing—the knowledge came from the same place as the burn in her chest. He wanted to play. His little nips, licks, and growls were driving her mad.

  Damn near frantic with need, she wrapped her legs around him and arched her hips. The hot length of his cock slid against her labia. He bit down on her nipple, the sharp pain adding another level to her pleasure.

  He was killing her, the passion tearing her apart and pulling her back together again only to drown her once more. She inhaled, tasting him everywhere—snow, pine, male—and hers.

  “Ryker,” she begged. “Ryker.”

  His mouth came down on hers. There was nothing tentative in the kiss. It was an invasion, a conquering of the senses, and a brand all rolled into one. His tongue thrust against her lips, demanding access. She opened to him. The blaze in her chest spread out to every nerve ending. The slick slide of his sinewy muscles against her amped up the burn.

  Ryker broke from the panting kiss, burying his face into her neck. His weight pressed onto her, his thigh firm between her legs. He stilled, the only noise that of his harsh breathing against her throat.

  Her body ached with need, a need she was hard-pressed to define. She barely knew Ryker, but she wanted him.

  Tired of waiting for him, she bucked, earning another groan as his cock rubbed against her pussy, sliding on the wetness. He rose above her. With her arms pinned and her legs spread, she was even more vulnerable than she’d been in the other room with his hand at her throat, but not one ounce of fear filled her.

  She gloried in it. In the low light of the room, his wolf eyes seemed to take on an unearthly glow. Saja tilted her head back, baring her throat to him. “Yours,” she declared, damn near ready to beg to get him moving again.

  “Mine,” he agreed, then his cock was pushing against her, thrusting inside in one long, hard, continuous movement that had her screaming. He stretched her, every drag of him against her sensitive flesh an overload to her system. Still he continued to move. Every drive brought his balls slapping against her ass. She thrust her hips up to meet him, eager to take him. When he latched onto her shoulder again, this bite she felt as it broke the skin, and the world splintered.

  The wildfire burning through her branded her soul. His shout of pleasure chased her over the edge.

  His.

  The lazy stroke of her foot against the back of his leg roused him. Claiming her had demanded every measure of his self-control—he was stronger than she, and he’d worried he could really hurt her and focused on her pleasure. Still, it had damn near undone him when the bond snapped into place as though it had always been there.

  Saja’s scent filled his lungs, coated every breath he took. He lay in the cradle of her body, face tucked against her throat and aware of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Overlaying her scent was his. The development pleased him on a level so primitive only another male would truly comprehend it. Over time, their scents would blend, but even if he were not allowed that long with her, she’d carry his mark.

  No one would ever touch her.

  Betting on the kindness of his Alpha’s heart—the same compassion that had him offering a second chance to wolves that didn’t deserve it—may prove a fool’s errand, but Drew’d told Ryker to use his judgment, and he had.

  The moment she’d fled, he’d known Drew’s earlier accusation to be true. The little human was his mate, and he’d ignored all the warning signs because she was human. After sixty years, he’d given up on the idea of ever having a mate. Now that her heart burned next to his, he never wanted to be without her. Claiming her could get him killed.

  His wolf roused at the thought.

  They would fight to keep her.

  Rising slightly, he inspected the mark he’d left on her—the skin had been broken and turned a mottled color, but no one who saw it would mistake it for anything else. That alone w
ould buy her enough time to leave Black Hills territory if necessary. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his mate, but if he was to secure her future, then he needed to move.

  Levering himself off the bed, he gave her cheek a light caress. “Sleep.”

  The bed had thicker blankets, and he drew the bearskin around her. If he built the fire up, it would warm the cabin so she could sleep here.

  “Hey.” She struggled to sit. “Where are you going?”

  The sight of her swollen lips and the tumble of her tousled dark hair clinging to her damp skin sent a pulse through him. His cock stirred. Somehow, even he’d forgotten how quickly he recovered from a bout. A tight feeling constricted his chest. If their time was limited, he wanted at least one more night with her—a whole one. But to have that, he had to take care of matters now.

  Dragging on his jeans, he wasn’t prepared for the pillow to wing over and strike him in the back of the head. Swinging around, he stared at his mate, who’d pushed out of the blankets to glare at him. “Mate or not, you do not get to just walk out after sex, no matter how amazing it was.”

  When she launched a second pillow at him, he dodged the missile then picked her up off the bed. Warm, soft, and supple, she wrapped her arms around him. He gave her a long, tender kiss before slipping her back under the blankets. Then he gave her wiggling ass another smack. “Stay.”

  Her nose scrunched, and her eyes narrowed. The challenge filled him with the desire to grin, but he schooled his features, glaring in return.

  “Stay.” As an afterthought, he added, “Please.”

  Flopping back against the pillows, she stuck her tongue out. “Only because you said please.”