Gator snorted. “I was just good at faking it for a lot of years.” He trailed his fingers up and down her bare arm. Goose bumps broke out on her skin.
She shook her head. “You were always tough. Did you know my father was afraid of you?”
He stilled. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. You and Cole and Jacque. I think he always feared what you might do.”
“He underestimated his son and Louis,” Gator murmured. “A lot of folks do because they’re quiet and thoughtful.”
“You’re a good friend to all of them.” After her brother, Gator was the most loyal person she’d ever known.
“We are brothers, chère,” She could tell he meant it. They might not all share the same blood, but they were bound by something even stronger—love and respect. She wanted to have friends like that and thought it could happen with the women who lived here.
He resumed stroking her skin. She didn’t want to talk anymore. Life was precious and the way he made her feel even more so. She might not be sure about the whole mating thing but she did know she wanted Gator. Whenever he touched her, he made her feel whole and brave and desirable.
It was a gift, and an unexpected one at that. When she’d come here in search of Armand, she’d never thought she’d discover something special with Gator. Having the object of her teenage imaginings tell her he’d watched her as much as she had him was heady and exciting.
But he was more than a simple memory. He was a flesh-and-blood man. He was sexy and loyal and funny and he wanted her. And she, who tensed up around most men, who could never have imagined having sex with anyone after all she’d been through, wanted him back.
It had all happened so fast, but she wasn’t human. She was a werewolf, a primal creature who listened to her instincts more than her mind. And she’d already lost many years of her life being alone. She didn’t know where her and Gator’s relationship would end up, but she didn’t want to waste any more time.
She tilted her head back and pressed her lips to his. His mouth moved gently, sliding over hers, totally relaxed and unhurried. She knew his façade of calmness was a lie. His pelvis was pressed against hers and she could feel the throbbing of his erection through the thick material of his jeans.
He was as aroused as she was. She could smell the musk rising from his skin and knew he could scent the dampness between her legs.
“Sylvie,” he groaned.
Poor man. Still trying to do the right thing. Didn’t he know he was the right thing for her? She sat up, whipped her nightgown over her head and tossed it onto the floor. Naked, she lay back in Gator’s bed and opened her arms to him.
“Love me.” It was getting easier and easier to be brave around him. He inspired her to be courageous, to stand on her own two feet and reach for what she wanted. Her wolf, cowed for so many years, was quickly regaining the innate confidence she’d had when she was younger.
Gator gave a low growl and levered himself over her, holding the bulk of his weight on his forearms so he didn’t crush her. “I do,” he promised. “I will.” Then he kissed her.
Gator knew he should leave, but he just couldn’t bring himself to walk away from Sylvie, not when she wanted him to stay. Her lips were warm and welcoming. He stroked her tongue with his, enjoying the way she welcomed his touch and returned the caress. He angled his head and went deeper. She moaned into his mouth and the small sound made his balls tighten.
He eased away, peppering her cheeks with kisses.
“Do you think this thing between us happened too fast?” she asked.
He gazed into her brown eyes, searching for fear or reluctance but found neither. Only an honest question. “Non,” he assured her. “If we were fully human, it might be too fast.” He tore his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. “But we are more than human, we are werewolves.” He nuzzled her jaw. “We live by our instincts.”
She stroked his shoulders and trailed her fingers down his biceps.
“I know I want you, chère,” he continued. “I’ve known you for years, wanted you for years.” Those had been long, lonely years. “And when I thought I lost you…” He didn’t want to think about that time.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “I wanted you for years too. That’s why this seems so easy, too easy.”
Gator snorted and her eyes widened. “There’s nothing easy about this situation or how we got here.” He rolled onto his back and pulled her over him. Her pussy lined up with his jeans-covered cock and he pressed her against his straining erection. “I lost you once, I’m not willing to waste any more time.”
Sylvie nodded. “I feel the same way.”
He held his arms out and smiled. “Then take me, I’m yours.”
He’d startled her with his offer. He could tell by the expression of confusion and then delight that crossed her face. The smile she gave him in return was sultry and full of sensual promise. “So I’m in charge?”
“All the way,” he promised. Even if it killed him. Still, he’d die a happy man. Mostly, he wanted Sylvie to get used to his body. Touch him. Trust him.
She licked her lips and sat upright, pressing herself more firmly against his dick. Gator barely smothered the groan. He was obviously out of his mind to think he could last with her touching him.
“The first thing we need to do is get rid of these jeans.”
Gator practically tossed Sylvie off him and tore at the opening of his pants. The zipper came down and he gave a sigh of relief when his cock popped free from confinement. He shoved the fabric down his hips and kicked it away.
His relief was short-lived. Sylvie wrapped her hand around his hard length and pumped. He gritted his teeth even as his hips rose off the bed.
“You want me?”
Why was she even asking him such a thing? Wasn’t it obvious?
Thankfully, she didn’t seem to require an answer.
“You’re so hot and hard.” She let her hand fall to the base of his shaft before starting the slow journey upward. Then she rubbed her thumb over the flared head, spreading the moisture seeping from the tip.
Gator struggled for control. His chest expanded as he tried to draw oxygen into his starved lungs. His heart pounded. Blood rushed to his cock, making it swell and pulse.
He’d seen her naked before. Had made love to her earlier today. Neither of which dimmed the impact her nakedness had on him. He cupped her breasts, weighing the plump mounds in his palms. Her nipples were already tight buds of need. She whispered his name and leaned into his touch.
“I’m going to come.” There was no way he could wait any longer. He was surprised he’d lasted this damn long. He ached to fill her pussy, to feel her squeezing his cock with her wet heat.
Sylvie threw one leg over his body and settled over him. She gripped his cock and placed the head at the entrance of her channel. He gripped her hips and struggled not to drag her down on top of him.
As if she sensed his internal battle, she dropped down on his shaft. His dick pushed past her body’s initial resistance and he angled his hips upward. At the same time, he used his grip on her waist to pull her down. Her slick heat took all of him until she was sitting on his groin.
Both of them gasped and Sylvie leaned forward, pressing her hands against his chest. “Gator,” she moaned.
“Etienne,” he told her. “Call me by my real name.” No one other than his mother used his real name. He’d been called Gator for most of his life.
“Etienne,” she repeated. “Etienne.”
He reached between her spread thighs and found the sensitive bud at the apex of her sex. He rubbed her clit, willing her to come.
“Fuck. I’m coming,” he growled, unable to hold back any longer. She didn’t even have to move. Just being inside her and having her pussy tighten around him was enough to set him off.
His cock jerked and his orgasm shot out of the tip, flooding her sex. The base of his shaft swelled, locking him inside her.
Sylvie moaned and rubbed against his hand. He pressed his thumb against her clit and she cried out. Her warmth flooded him and her inner muscles tightened around his shaft. He swore again and caught her when she collapsed against him.
Panting hard, he held her in his arms. Their bodies were heated, their skin slick with sweat. She snuggled close and he kissed the top of her head.
“That was a little faster than I’d planned on.” Honestly, it wasn’t his finest hour. He hadn’t lost it that fast since he was a teenager. At thirty-five, he’d thought he’d had more control over his body. Obviously, he’d been mistaken. Sylvie shredded his control and made it a joke.
“Hmm.” She rubbed her nose against his neck. “I don’t mind. We can always try again.”
Gator chuckled. The more time he spent with Sylvie the more he liked her. Yes, he was physically attracted to her. Yes, he’d loved her from afar for a big chunk of his life. But he hadn’t really known her until she’d shown up, a ghost from the past. She was sexy as hell, courageous, strong and resilient. She also had a playful side that appealed to him.
He stroked his hand down her delicate spine and cupped her ass. He gave it a squeeze. “You think so, do you?”
“Absolutely.” She kneaded her fingers against his chest. Even though he’d just come, his cock was still full. One of the perks of not being fully human. For right now, he was feeling relaxed and satisfied. Sylvie was in his arms—and seemed content to be there—and they were joined in the most intimate way. Life didn’t get much better.
“Can I ask you something?” Sylvie tilted her head back so she could see his face.
He dropped a kiss on her full lips because they were there. How could he resist? “Anything.”
“How did you get your nickname?”
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s not much of a story,” Gator warned her.
She sighed and kissed his jaw. He loved that she was so openly affectionate with him. “I never knew your name was Etienne. I always thought it was Gator.”
He shook his head. “No, I was born Etienne Rollins.”
“When did you become Gator?”
He sensed she needed some time before they made love again, needed the intimacy that only came from cuddling and conversation. He’d never been fond of that with other women, but with Sylvie he not only didn’t mind, he actually liked it.
He stroked her back, doing his best to ignore whenever his fingers rubbed against one of the many scars that resided there. Permanent reminders of how much she’d been hurt in the past. He loved that she let him touch them. That she snuggled closer against his chest.
Her trust made his heart swell with pride.
“I was about five or six, I guess. Not really sure of the exact age. Under seven for sure.” His daddy had told the story many times, but he’d always been vague about the age. “Apparently, I’d wandered off on my own.” More likely his daddy was supposed to be watching him but had simply forgotten. It wasn’t that the man didn’t care, just that he figured watching the kids was woman’s work. His daddy was real narrow in his thinking.
“What happened then?” Sylvie rubbed her hand over his chest and arm. He wasn’t sure she even realized she was doing it.
“The story goes I managed to stumble across a gator. Not a real big one, but still around six feet.”
“Oh my God.” Sylvie sat upright, driving herself deeper onto his hard cock. He hissed out a breath and she gasped.
He reached for her breasts but she caught his hands. “What happened then?”
As much as he wanted to forget the damn story and make love with her again, he knew from the expression on her face that wasn’t happening until she heard the whole tale. She was a stubborn little thing. He liked that.
“I don’t really remember the details. Daddy says that he heard the gator bellowing and me yelling and hurried to find me.”
He paused for effect and she squeezed his hands. “And?”
“And I had my arms wrapped tight around the gator’s jaws and was chewing on his face.”
“Really? You’re making that up,” she accused.
He shook his head. “Swear to God. Daddy didn’t want to startle me into letting go so he calmly walked over and used his bowie knife on the gator. After he’d killed the gator, he started yelling at me. By that time, Mama had heard the commotion and came running.”
“She must have been frantic.”
Gator shrugged. “Yeah, I remember a lot of yelling and screaming. Mama took me home and Daddy skinned the gator. After that day, my daddy started called me his little gator hunter. Eventually, it just shortened until everyone was calling me Gator.” One of the things he remembered the most was that his older brother had not been pleased with all the attention Gator had gotten. He and Alain had never been close after that day.
“That’s amazing.”
“Not really.” He locked his fingers with hers and rolled them across the big bed until she was under him. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.”
He pumped his hips. Once. Twice. Damn, but she was all hot and wet around his dick. “Do you know what I want to do to you?” He leaned down and kissed her before she could answer.
She opened her mouth and welcomed him. Made him feel like he was finally home. He hadn’t understood just how truly alone he felt until she’d shown up. Everything he’d ever wanted in life was right here in bed with him. If Pierre or Travis or any of them thought they were taking her from him, they were in for a rude surprise.
She tasted sweeter than honey. He swept his tongue over hers, both of their breathing getting faster and shallower with each passing second. He sucked on her plump bottom lip and lapped at the top one.
Even though he’d just had her, he was desperate to claim her, to put his mark on her. He growled and released her mouth and kissed a hot path down her throat. He forced himself not to linger. It would be too easy to let his fangs drop and mark her.
He wouldn’t betray her trust that way.
Instead, he turned his attention to her breasts. They were full and so responsive to his every touch. He nuzzled and lapped one pert nipple. Sylvie sighed and threaded her fingers through his hair.
He wanted nothing more than to keep going but figured he should warn her before they went any further. “You do realize your brother knows I’m in here. Hell, if he’s still awake, which he probably is, he knows what we’re doing.”
Sylvie tensed and then slowly released a breath. “I know you’re right, but I don’t care.”
Gator lifted his head and studied her expression. Small lines of worry creased the area between her eyes. He started to sit up but she used her grip on his hair to keep him where he was.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and Armand,” he told her. “Well, no more than I already have.”
Sylvie gave a small laugh and shook her head. “So honest.”
“I try to be. Lying is just too much trouble.” And it didn’t change the facts. So why bother?
She let her fingers slip through his hair and released him. “I’ve lied.”
He sighed and caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “I know, chère, but only because you had no other choice.”
Her dark eyes begged for understanding. “I didn’t like lying.”
“It’s okay. You did what you had to in order to live. It’s understandable.” He hated that she was bothered so much by her past. He was fiercely glad she’d done whatever she’d had to do to survive.
The sad smile she gave him almost broke his heart. “Sorry to be such a buzz kill.” She pushed her hair away from her face. “Yeah, that really destroyed the mood.”
Gator withdrew from her and lowered her han
d to his thick erection. “Nothing can make me stop wanting you.” He wanted her to understand, to know the truth of that. “Nothing,” he reiterated and carefully moved her hand away. Not one thing she’d done in her past made any difference to him. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
“Oh, Gator.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. He caught it on the tip of his finger and brought it to his lips. It was salty and warm.
“We can do whatever you want, Sylvie. We can settle down and I’ll hold you while we sleep. I can get dressed and leave you if that’s what you want.” And he prayed it wasn’t. “Or I can keep making love to you. Your choice.”
His cock jerked as if protesting the idea of leaving Sylvie.
The worry lines disappeared and her gaze softened. “You. I want you.”
Whatever she’d done in her life to deserve this moment, she was glad she’d done it. If living through the hell she had been through had been necessary to bring her to this place, then it was all worth it.
Gator—Etienne—was worth it.
She’d never known another man who moved her emotionally and had her panting for sexual release at the same time. He was, in a word, unique.
And he was hers.
“You’re sure?” he asked. Where earlier there had been sexual desire and caring in his gaze, now there was concern.
She didn’t bother answering with words. She reached down and gripped his thick cock and slid her hand up and down. He was slick and damp with her juices.
He groaned and grabbed her hand. “Not this time,” he told her. “I want to have some fun.” He playfully nipped at the tip of one of her fingers before releasing her hand.
She shuddered as sensation shot up her finger and traveled to the rest of her body. One tiny touch and her nipples were pulled tight and her pussy was throbbing again.
He growled low in his throat and lay flat on the mattress between her thighs. His broad shoulders pushed her legs wider. “You taste so good. Better than chocolate.” He glanced up at her. “And I love chocolate.”
Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 Page 19
