“You have a home here, with me.” He released her hand and planted his alongside her shoulders, effectively caging her in. He smelled woodsy, fresh and male. His gaze was intent as he stared down at her. She swallowed hard.
“Stay with me, Gwen.” He nuzzled the edge of her jaw up to her ear, traced his tongue along the tender whorl, dipping and swirling. “Stay,” he whispered.
Gwen’s entire body was alive, the nerve endings electric. His nearness was making it impossible for her to remember why she couldn’t stay here. “You abducted me.” Yeah, that was a major reason.
“I rescued you,” he countered, his breath warm on her neck.
She scowled. “I didn’t need rescuing,” she protested weakly as he drew the lobe of her ear into his mouth and gently tugged.
“Yes, you did. You just didn’t know it.” Jacque took her mouth in a torrid kiss. He consumed her, taking her breath and replacing it with his. She caught his head in her hands and since she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away, she simply held him.
Confusion swamped her. She shouldn’t be doing this, but she didn’t care. Jacque tasted so good, so right. He’d been by her side whenever she’d surfaced from sleep. Her body recognized him from their steamy interlude of several days ago. Her soul knew him on a deep level she couldn’t explain.
Her fingers sifted through his hair without any conscious direction from her. She was overwhelmed by his kiss. His tongue tangled with hers and she tasted his desperation, his growing lust, and it was one hell of a turn-on.
He levered his body over hers and let his pelvis rest against hers. There was no mistaking his arousal. It pressed hard against her mound. She opened her legs slightly and he fitted himself into the notch of her thighs. The pressure was wonderful, but it quickly wasn’t enough.
“Gwen.” Need and something more was in his tone. She didn’t stop to examine it but responded to it on a deep, visceral level.
“Yes.” She wanted this, wanted to know at least one time what it felt like to have his naked body next to hers, his cock buried deep inside her. She felt empty. Needy. And only Jacque could fill the aching void within her.
It might not be the smartest thing she’d ever done, but that no longer mattered. She’d almost died twice in the past week. Once in the car wreck and the second time during the attack. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? But Jacque was here now and so was she.
He gave a low groan that sounded half like a growl and kissed her again. This time she was ready and kissed him back, no longer content to be passive. She wanted him to know she was an equal partner in this. Her tongue stroked his and she tasted his desire, spicy and hot.
She moved her hands over his thick muscled shoulders and raked her fingernails lightly down the furrow of his spine. He arched inward, pressing his erection more snugly against her mound. She moaned and dug her hands into his jean-clad butt, wanting him closer.
Jacque reared back, his lungs heaving as he stared down at her. “Let’s get this off you.” He shifted off her and reached for the hem of her gown. Gwen helped him, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against her.
“Now you.” She reached for the button of his jeans, but he pushed her hands away and did it himself. A heartbeat later, he was naked and kneeling on the bed. His cock jutted straight up from a nest of dark curls. The head was engorged with blood, darker than the shaft and slick with moisture. Blue veins pulsed with desire and the sac that hung beneath his cock was heavy and full with need.
She wanted to touch him and reached out her hand. Alive. That’s how his erection felt against her skin. She slid lower and cupped his balls, letting the coarse hair brush against her palm.
“Gwen.” Her name was little more than a strangled groan. He caught her hand in his and gently pulled it away. “I want you too much.” He eased down onto the mattress beside her. “And you’re not ready to take me yet.”
If she were any more ready she’d burst into flames. Her breasts were swollen and tender and between her thighs she was wet and slick, which made her more than ready by her estimation. Jacque made her hotter than any man she’d ever met and he hadn’t done anything but kiss her so far. But her body remembered the last time he’d touched her and the anticipation alone was making her throb.
He cupped one of her breasts, plumping it in his hand. His thumb skimmed her nipple, making it tighten and sending a bolt of energy arrowing down to her core. Her sheath clenched with growing need.
“No, you’re not ready yet.” He leaned down and lapped at the puckered nub. “But you will be.”
Heat washed over her as Jacque parted his lips and took her into his mouth. He sucked gently on her tender nipple before tugging lightly on it with his teeth. Gwen dug her fingernails into his bulging biceps and her legs moved restlessly. Her breathing became short and shallow and she struggled to get enough air into her lungs so she didn’t pass out.
Jacque released her nipple and turned his attention to the other one, giving it the same treatment. “Just look at you.” He traced a finger over the damp nub. “So responsive.” He lapped at the bud and she moaned. “You taste sweet, like a wild strawberry in late summer.”
His poetic words were as mesmerizing as his touch because they were totally unexpected. This was a man with depths, more than she knew, and each layer she uncovered fascinated her.
She gave a cry of protest when he left her breasts and began to kiss a trail over her ribs. His hands preceded him, caressing and exploring every curve and hollow of her body. Never in her life had a man made her feel like this, as though he needed to explore every inch of her. The sensation was intoxicating.
When he cupped one thigh in his large hand and gently pushed she gave no resistance and quickly moved her legs apart, eager for what was to come. She was more than ready to have his cock sink into her hot depths. But Jacque obviously wasn’t ready yet.
Gwen didn’t know if she’d survive when he settled between her legs and used his thumbs to part her slick folds. Her inner muscles clenched and she knew she was close to coming.
Jacque didn’t want to rush but knew time was running out. His cock was going to explode if he didn’t get inside Gwen soon. He wanted to come with her pussy clasping him tight, squeezing his dick, milking it hard as he fucked her.
Even more, he wanted to claim her in the way of his people. He wanted her on her hands and knees while he covered her with his much larger body and fucked her. He wanted to take the tender skin at the nape of her neck between his teeth and bite it, marking her as his for all time. But it was much too soon for that. If he tried it she would probably run in fear, and that was the last thing he wanted.
His balls pulled up tight to his body and he took a deep breath, fighting for control. It was the wrong thing to do. So close to Gwen, he could smell her spicy arousal. The folds of her sex were slick and swollen, announcing how much she wanted him.
Her hips arched upward in silent invitation and he resisted no longer. Jacque buried his face between her thighs and tasted her essence, moaning as her sweetness coated his tongue when he swept it up one side of her sex and down the other.
His cock flexed and he had to exert every ounce of control he possessed to keep from coming then and there. He hadn’t been this close to disgracing himself since he’d reached sexual maturity. But Gwen made a mockery of all his experience. This was more primal. This was his mate.
Whether she accepted it or not, he wasn’t letting her go. He needed her in a way she’d never truly understand. Something about her calmed the wolf inside him, giving him peace for the first time in his life. He couldn’t let her go.
He’d do everything in his power to make her want to stay, and that started with sex. It would give them a physical connection, which wasn’t to be discounted. Gwen wasn’t the type of woman who gave herself to just any man. He’d learned enough about her in the short time he’d known her to understand she had to be emotionally involved before she had sex. In
fact, he was counting on it. He wanted her to feel attached to him, to forge bonds that would help her get past the fact he’d been forced to kidnap her for her own safety.
Not that he’d ever tell her that. He wasn’t an idiot.
Gwen moved beneath his mouth, pressing closer. He tongued her clitoris, loving the sound of her moan. It was music to his soul. He circled the little bundle of nerves, teasing it, pressing his tongue against it.
Her breathing was ragged and her heart racing. He eased two fingers inside her sheath and was immediately engulfed in liquid fire. She was wet and ready. He parted his fingers and drew them almost all the way out of her core before plunging them back in again.
Gwen cried out and tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. His scalp stung and the small pain anchored him to the task at hand. He licked and suckled her clit while continuing the in-and-out motion of his fingers.
His name was torn from her lips as she came. Her sheath tightened around his fingers. He immediately withdrew them and surged up and over her. He gripped his cock, guided the head to her entrance and pressed inward. It wasn’t easy with her inner muscles clenching and releasing and her sheath swollen with need. He kept a steady pressure, making a place for himself inside her.
“Jacque.” Her thin cry made him stop. Her eyes were half closed, her lips parted. Her skin was flushed and damp.
“Chère.” The word was half endearment and half apology. He couldn’t wait. He flexed his hips and buried his cock in her welcoming body. The ripple of her sheath almost made him come. He knew it wouldn’t take much.
He withdrew almost all the way and then pressed inward. Gwen moaned but she canted her hips, moving with him. He groaned and did it again.
Jacque shoved his hand under her ass and tilted her pelvis for a better angle. He drove into her twice more before a blast of heat raced from his balls and up his shaft. He yelled as he came, his cock jerking as he spent himself within her.
She cried out again and her pussy rippled around him. He groaned as the pleasure almost became too much, his cock caught in her silken depths. Jacque settled back on his knees and let his head fall on Gwen’s chest. He wanted to feel her beneath him but didn’t want to put his full weight on her, not when she was still recovering. He’d noted the fading bruises on her body and didn’t want to do anything that might hurt her.
His cock was still swollen and locked inside Gwen when she opened her eyes and stared up at him. He willed her to say something. Anything.
She gave him a sleepy smile and her eyes drifted shut. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It was a start. A relationship between them wouldn’t be easy. She was human and he was a werewolf. Her lifespan was much shorter than his. He didn’t want to think of her growing old and dying while he was still young and in his prime.
Jacque stayed inside her until she shivered. His cock had grown soft enough for him to slip from her body, although he hated to leave her. He stood beside the bed and pulled the covers over her, brushing a hand over her tousled hair. He hadn’t used any protection. In his long life, that was a first. Although, the chances of them having a child was slim to none because she wasn’t a werewolf. And if they did have one, the child would be a half-breed.
Not that it mattered. Not to him. As far as he was concerned, she was his mate. He loved the idea of Gwen’s belly being swollen with his child—a boy with dark hair or maybe a little girl with her mother’s light hair. Gwen might not see it that way. Not yet. But hopefully with time she would.
He scratched his chest and stretched, feeling better than he had in a long time. He padded off to the bathroom to shower before he started his day. Gwen needed more sleep, and she’d have to start eating more solid food to build up her strength. Time was running out.
Andre would be back. Of that, Jacque had no doubt. And this time, he’d be bringing even more men with him.
Chapter Twelve
When Gwen woke again she was alone. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep this time. She stretched and felt her muscles protest slightly, a physical reminder of the amazing sex she’d had with Jacque. Shoving back the covers, she sat up. The light from the outside was leaking in around the curtains, giving the room a golden glow.
Her nightshirt was lying on the floor beside the bed, so she scooped it up and pulled it on. She stood slowly, making certain she was steady on her feet before she padded to the window, pushed aside the covering and let the light enter the room. The view of the woods with the mountains in the distance was spectacular.
That was one of the things she’d enjoyed about leaving the city—no sirens or traffic. It was amazing how quickly she’d gotten used to the quiet, which she’d discovered really wasn’t quiet at all. There were always birds singing, the wind moving through the trees and the chattering of the squirrels.
A shower was the first thing on her to-do list. Then she needed food. Her stomach growled in agreement. How long had it been since she’d had solid food? She honestly couldn’t say, but suddenly she was ravenous, which was a very good sign she was on the mend.
She took her time in the shower, lathering twice and washing and conditioning her hair. Her soap and shampoo sat on the shelf in the shower alongside Jacque’s. She didn’t know how she felt about that—confused, turned on and slightly miffed at the assumption because she’d slept with him she would be staying.
Most of her bruises were fading and, when she stepped out of the shower, she felt almost normal again. Her brush and comb were lying on the vanity alongside her toothbrush and body lotion. It felt strange to know that Jacque must have unpacked her things, his fingers touching them before he set them there. Still, she was grateful to have her stuff around her. It made her feel more normal and gave her a badly needed confidence boost.
She slathered the lavender-scented lotion all over her skin and then dried and brushed her hair. “Clothes next.” Her suitcases were still sitting by the wardrobe and she dragged them over to the bed one at a time. She groaned when she unzipped the first one. Obviously they’d packed up her clothes in a hurry, not worrying about folding things properly. The first two shirts she pulled out were too wrinkled to wear.
She rummaged around and found one of her favorite pairs of comfy jeans and paired it with a long-sleeved pumpkin-colored sweater. Underneath she wore a matching beige bra and panty set. She felt her cheeks warming when she pulled on her underwear, wondering which of the men had packed it. There was a pair of canvas sneakers in the second bag so she pulled them on over her white sports socks.
She was ready to face the day, whatever time it was.
She and Jacque had to talk. Not only about what had happened between them, but the possible consequences. They hadn’t used a condom. She’d been doing her best to try not to think about it, but reality was a bitch and Gwen had never been the kind to bury her head in the sand. That couldn’t happen again. A child wasn’t the best thing for any of them at this point.
She squashed the feelings of pleasure that assailed her when she pictured a black-haired boy or girl with Jacque’s distinctive eyes. It wasn’t likely she was pregnant, but she couldn’t take any more chances. She wasn’t stupid enough to think they wouldn’t have sex again. Her control button seemed to be missing whenever she was around Jacque. But if they had sex again it would be protected sex.
Her stomach gave a loud growl, a very unsubtle reminder to feed it. “I know. Food next.” Gwen stuffed her clothing back into the bags and zipped them shut. She ignored the bed, deciding she’d change the sheets later if she was still staying in this room. Now that she was well again it felt strange to think of sleeping in Jacque’s room with him. She’d probably be better off in a guest room, if they had one, that is. The cabin was well built but not overly large.
The kitchen was empty and the coffeepot was cold. It didn’t take her long to find the filters and a can of coffee and start a pot brewing. While she was waiting, she opened the cupboards and examined the contents. There were plent
y of canned goods, everything from soup to canned vegetables and meat. The freezer was crammed with frozen foods of every variety from pizza and chicken to veggies and fruit. But the main emphasis seemed to be on meat. They had beef, lamb and pork in every form from steaks to roasts. They even had some fresh food, enough to make her think they’d recently been to the grocery store. They were well stocked.
The coffeepot was hissing and spitting in the background and she had her head in the refrigerator, trying to decide what she wanted when she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stir.
Gwen straightened and turned, expecting to find Jacque behind her. Instead, it was Gator, with his midnight-black hair and eyes the blue of a summer sky. He was wearing faded jeans, boots and a black muscle shirt. Lethal menace rolled off him in waves. “You hungry, chère?”
“Umm, yeah.” Obviously, she was hungry. She was also slightly tongue-tied since this was the first time she’d been alone with any of the men without Jacque by her side.
Gator sauntered into the room. He moved like Jacque did, all lean strength and predatory grace. He stopped about three feet from her. “What would you like?”
What would she like? To go home and forget any of this ever happened? Maybe. She wasn’t so certain about that anymore. Not if it meant never meeting Jacque. A quiver of arousal shot through her at the memory of what they’d done earlier. His hands and mouth had explored much of her body, leaving ribbons of heat in their wake.
“Gwen?” Gator’s eyes narrowed and he looked concerned.
“I’m thinking,” she snapped, embarrassed that she’d been caught daydreaming about Jacque when she should have all her attention on the man in front of her.
He smiled and he went from intimidating to drop-dead gorgeous in a heartbeat. Oh man, what was it about these werewolves? There was something about them, some kind of animal magnetism that drew a woman’s eye. Even if she wasn’t attracted to him in the same way she was to Jacque, she could appreciate the male splendor of him.
Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 Page 12
