Hunting Hearts (Trilogy Bundle) (Werewolf Romance - Paranormal Romance)

by Hart, Melissa F.

  “Did you think that I was indifferent to you?” he asked. “You must never have seen yourself so naked and bared.”

  He climbed back on the bed, and she felt him crawl over her. He pressed his knees between hers, causing her to spread her legs, and she bucked her hips against the mattress. She knew that she was already damp, and that now, with her spread so flat, he could see every part of her. Her face burned, but she knew that it wasn't embarrassment, or at least, it wasn't embarrassment alone.

  “You're beautiful here,” he said, tracing a finger along the curve of her buttocks before pressing them to the dark slit between her legs. “So very, very beautiful, and already you’re so wet, hmm?”

  He lay himself down over her, catching his weight on his forearms. She shivered when he nuzzled the back of her neck, and then traced kisses down her bare spine. His wet mouth raised goose bumps on her back, and his cock was a hard, hot column against the tender flesh of her buttocks. She shifted as much as she could, trying to tell him that she wanted him, that she was ready, but he only kept playing with her, tracing kisses up her back, and tickling her nape with his lips.

  “Please, please, I need more,” she finally said, and his laugh was soft and just a little mocking.

  “Soon,” he said, and she could hear the tease in his voice. “I'm just not done yet...”

  He pressed his finger between her lips, and when she lapped hesitantly, he laughed in her ear.

  “Lick it,” he said softly. “Show me what you would do with my cock if I let you suck it...”

  The thought of putting her mouth on him so intimately made her hips twitch again, and she pulled his finger into her mouth, lapping and rolling her tongue over it. She imagined being on her knees, looking up at him, wanting him so badly...

  Before she was done, he pulled his finger away, and as she made a questioning noise, he brought it down between her legs. She was already wet, and his damp finger slid easily between her folds. This was no simply check to ensure that she was ready for more, this was a slow languorous torture.

  He slid a single finger in and out of her, pulling back from time to time to circle her clit gently. It was never as firm as she needed, or with the strength that she craved, and though she hung on to the headboard obediently, she buried her face in the mattress, whimpering for more. She knew she was saying please, she knew she was desperate, and she had no idea how to ask him for more.

  “You asked me what I would do if you were a werewolf woman,” he said softly. “Well, if you were, I would know you were ready now.”

  At first Tara didn't know what he meant, but then she realized that her arousal and the way she had been moving meant that her rear was raised up in the air; she was practically on her knees, and with her head and chest still on the mattress, she realized how explicitly she was displaying herself.

  “Oh god,” she wailed, and she would have curled up to hide herself, but Mads' hands wrapped around her hips, keeping her in place.

  “You're showing me how much you want me,” he said, and his voice dropped down to a sensual growl. “You're showing me how much you need me, you're giving yourself to me...”

  With nothing more than that, his fingers tightened on her hips, and he pressed his cock inside her with a single stroke. The fullness that she had been craving, given all at once, created a rush of sensation that made her wail.

  She was tight and sleek, and she felt how easily he moved inside her. After his first savage entrance, he settled to an almost lazy rhythm, pumping his hips against her.

  Tara gave herself up to the rhythm he set, letting her mind go blank with pleasure. She rolled her hips toward him, tightening around him when he thrust, and she knew that she would always belong to this man. Some part of her would always remember the feel of him inside her, and the feeling of fullness and completion that he brought to her.

  “Mads, oh, Mads, please,” she said, half-muffled by the sheets, but he seemed to understand.

  He reached one hand down underneath her belly, and he found her clit again. With every thrust, he circled the sensitive nub with a calloused finger, and before she thought possible, her body was tightening again. He drew the pleasure out, playing her like a perfect instrument of sensation, and she knew that she couldn't last long.

  “Mads, please, I can't much longer,” she said, half-incoherent with the things that he was making her feel. Her legs were already starting to shake as his hand grew more insistent, and she buried her face in the sheets.

  “You first,” he said through gritted teeth. “You first, love, because I need to know you enjoy this, that you want me as much as I want you.”

  His words were barely out when deep tremors shook her body. They started low and deep, but they were so powerful that she cried out, her voice echoing in the door-less room. Her climax consumed her body, but when it peaked, she realized that Mads was still touching her, lighter now, and he was still inside her as he stroked her clit again.

  To her shock, he brought her to a second climax right on the heels of the first, and as the lights of her pleasure exploded behind her eyes, she knew that she was limp on the bed, held up only because Mads was supporting her.

  The last shudders of her climax were passing through her body when she felt Mads' control break. Suddenly, his hands were on her hips, and he was thrusting into her with almost painful intensity.

  She was shaken by his passion, how easily he claimed her, and when he spilled inside her, she reached back blindly with one hand. He took her hand in his, clutching it tight while he poured himself into her, and in that moment, she knew that there was nothing in the world she wanted more than him.

  After a long moment, he pulled away, and came to lie down next to her, pulling her into his arms.

  She nuzzled against him, and she started to speak when she felt herself fading away again. There was a single moment when she heard his anguished cry, and then the world was melting away.

  Tara sat up abruptly, aware that she was on a hard floor, and that she was back in the trailer of the woman known as Three in One. She had met two, and she staggered up to her feet, looking around wildly. The dishes that they had eaten off of were scattered and broken on the ground, half of the pictures on the wall were pulled down, and one of the chairs lay on its back as if someone had shoved themselves up. There was no sign of the woman, and there was a strange stillness to the air, like the world after a gunshot.

  There was Mads, stretched across the floor nearby, but when she started to go to him, a flicker of movement caught her eye. She turned around, and then she gasped with fear and awe.

  Standing in the open door of the trailer behind her was an angel, but he was a thousand years removed from the thing that Mads had fought. He was perfectly naked except for a white cloth kilt around his hips, and his body would have inspired a thousand marble statues. He was lithe and inhumanly perfect, and when she met his deep gray eyes, she could feel a millennium behind them.

  “Be careful,” he said, and his voice rang like a bell. “He is not what he seems, and you are open and vulnerable. Please, you must take care...”

  It looked like he would have said more, but then there was a deep, demonic snarl from behind Tara.

  In a rush of gray fur and flashing teeth, Mads pushed her aside, and as the enormous gray wolf, he launched himself at the angel. The angel shrank back until he was on the porch, and then with one powerful sweep of his wings, he was airborne and gone.

  Mads' last final leap almost caught his heel, but he snapped finally on thin air. The wolf howled with fury and rage, and for the first time, Tara realized that she was afraid.

  They scanned the skies for the angel, but he was gone, and finally, Mads returned to his human form and came back inside.

  “She's gone,” he said, exhausted and still vibrating with fury. “The bastard whoreson drove her off. We've lost.”

  “No,” said Tara, touching the pocket where she kept the book. There was a slip of paper next to the bo
ok, and written on the page were directions.

  “No, we haven’t,” she said.

  Mads swept her up in his arms, kissing her soundly, calling her beautiful and clever and perfect, but the angel's words remained with her, and she found in her heart a seed of doubt.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK THREE: The Wolf Released - Volume 3

  ***

  The Wolf Released

  ***

  There was something predatory about the way that Mads watched her, and Tara kept a wary eye on him as she brushed out her hair.

  “Do I have something on my face or something?” she asked.

  He spread his hands out innocently. “Do I have to have a reason to watch someone so lovely?” Mads was innocence personified, but she couldn't miss the glint of hunger in his smile.

  She shook her head and concentrated on brushing out her hair. Two weeks after leaving the home of the woman known as Three in One, they had driven, flown, and sailed their way to the desolate Scottish countryside. The woman's note, the sole reminder of a nightmarish night spent in an Illinois trailer, had brought them to the ancestral home of Mads' pack, and they had found one of the older safe houses to be a snug nest.

  It was a stone cottage more than four hundred years old, and it stood alone in the middle of the countryside. There was a shambles of a castle nearby, something medieval and ancient, but that was where the note had said that they would find what they sought. Mads was eager to take her to the castle and to awaken the spirit of Fenrisulfir, but they had both agreed that a night at the safe house would do them both more good than stumbling into a medieval fortification while exhausted from travel.

  “You look like you want to eat me,” Tara continued, and Mads' grin got a lot sharper.

  As she watched, he climbed gracefully to his feet and approached the stool where she sat by the fire. Even as she thrilled to his casual power and his easy movements, a part of her held herself back, waiting and watching. The angel, the beautifully winged young man who had spoken to her in Illinois, had told her that Mads was hiding something from her. He had lied before, he had sworn that he would not, and now she no longer knew what to think. All she knew was that her heart cried for him even as her body did, and when he came close, she did not know how to control any part of herself.

  “You've been silent these last few days,” he murmured, kneeling down so they could see eye to eye. His hands, large, calloused and scarred, lit gently on her shoulders, brushing her hair back and away so that he could touch the bare flesh of her neck and her shoulders.

  Her eyes drifted closed as his hands rubbed gentle circles into her flesh, and she shook her head.

  “There's nothing,” she said. “I know that I can read the incantation from the book, I know that I can free the Fenrisulfir...”

  Mads shook his head sharply, almost angrily. “I don't care about the book,” he said, “not right now. That's tomorrow. Tomorrow can go hang itself. What I care about, the only thing that I care about right now, is in this room, and she has been keeping silent.”

  His words caught at her heart, tugging fiercely at her. It was so close to what she needed to hear, and what she wanted from him so badly that she nearly threw herself into his arms. Instead, she shook her head, biting her lip, and he frowned.

  “You don't want to talk?” he asked, and she shook her head.

  It was easier, after all, to remain silent when she was afraid of the accusations and fears that would spill out of her mouth. There was something almost funny about their situation, and she leaned into his touch, brushing her face against the caress of his palm.

  “Beautiful, beautiful Tara,” Mads murmured. “I love hearing you. I love hearing you talk, I love hearing you laugh, and I love hearing you cry out when I've brought you to your peak again and again.”

  Tara could feel her face turn red when he mentioned their passionate lovemaking, and she shifted on the hard stool. She could still feel his mouth on her body from less than a day ago, and from the way his eyes lit up, she could see he remembered as well.

  “Should I try to make you speak?” he asked, his voice taking a dangerous note. “Are you challenging me to make you cry out?”

  The idea of him forcing words, sounds, and moans from her body made her rock slightly on the stool, and without thinking about it, she found herself nodding. She wanted to tell him the truth, to confide all of her fears to him and to have him soothe her, but she couldn't bring the words up to her throat. Instead, Tara could only gaze up at him, her eyes wide and pleading, and nod hard.

  Yes. Please. Make me.

  Mads' blue eyes darkened, and he nodded slowly. There was something deeply wild in him tonight, and she had just presented him with a challenge. Without saying a word, he stood up, standing in front of her in a pair of well-worn jeans and nothing else. She longed to reach for him and to trace the muscular lines of his body, caress him and to bring him closer, but she sat stilt.

  She looked up at him with something like defiance, which made him smile, and he circled her completely, like she was a prey animal he wanted to bring down.

  “I could pull your hair hard enough to make you purr,” he said speculatively. “I've certainly done so enough times before...”

  Mads combed his fingers through her smooth hair, tugging just a little to make her sigh. She was almost disappointed when he stopped, but then she just barely managed to stop a yelp when he lifted her up in his arms.

  “I could bite you,” he growled softly in her ear. “I could leave marks all over that beautiful skin of yours. I know how much you like that.”

  She buried her face in his neck, nodding hard. She loved it when he marked her as his, and some part of her hated ever covering those marks up with her clothing.

  He brought her over to the bed, and he lay her down on it gently. As he set her down, he squeezed the round curve of her rear firmly, making her squirm.

  “I could spank you,” he said, his voice throbbing with desire. “You like that well enough when I did it a few times while we were making love. What would you think if I did it now, if I turned that beautiful ass of yours red and glowing?”

  She gasped with both shock at the idea and at how appealing it sounded, being bent over his hard leg and spanked until she was sore, and he grinned.

  “There are many ways for me to make you give up,” he told her. “But I know something that I think will loosen that clever tongue of yours sooner rather than later.”

  With no more warning than that, he climbed on the bed with her, spreading her legs and settling between them. Instead of resting his weight on top of her like she had thought he would, he sat back on his heels and ran his hands underneath her sweater, finding the sweet curve of her breasts with his hands.

  Tara whimpered as he ran gentle thumbs over her nipples, repeating the sweet motion over and over again until they were erect and aching for him. She wished she could tell him to put his mouth on them, to lick them and be at least a little rougher, but she bit her lower lip and raised her eyes to him again. There was something that she needed, and it would take more than that.

  He laughed when he saw her stubbornness, and he dragged his hands down her flat belly to the elegant curve of her hips. He pulled the waistband of her skirt down so that he could lap at the sensitive skin directly under the waistband, and when she shifted against him, he held her still with a casual strength that still had the ability to astonish her.

  There was nothing that she could do while he kissed her hips and her belly, and every time he seemed like he would venture lower, he pulled back to another spot. Before she knew it, she was thrashing against his hands, almost desperate to get his mouth where she needed it, but he only laughed raggedly.

  Finally, she reached down to take a fistful of his hair, giving it a hard yank, and his laugh turned into a yelp. He pulled back, and for one single, dreadful moment, she thought that she had actually angered him.

  Instead the sharpness in his gaze was something else
entirely, and he reached for the hem of her skirt, flipping it up so that she was bare to his eyes. He took the hem of her cheap cotton panties in both hands, and the rough purring sound of the flimsy fabric shredding under his grasp made her thrust her hips toward him, needing him so much she could barely breathe.

  While the game might have been for him to make her make a sound, it was forgotten now when he pressed his face between her legs, nuzzling the soft flesh there and the curling hair. With a deep sigh, she spread her legs for him, and she felt his clever fingers part her further, opening her slick and sensitive flesh to him.

  Tara received no warning when he pressed his tongue between her folds, lapping at her hard from bottom to top. She could feel his tongue cover her over and over again, and she pressed against him, not caring about anything beyond how very good he felt and how very much she needed him and everything he made her feel.

  Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled back a little to circle her clit with the tip of his tongue. The sensation was almost too intense, but she needed it with every fiber of her being. She wanted him to overwhelm her, and even when she thought that she wanted to shy away from the things that he was making her feel.

  He pressed first one finger, and then another into her soaking entrance, and when he started to thrust with them while lapping at her clit, she knew that she would never be able to be silent. She gripped his hair with both hands, tugging hard and thrashing against him.

  She realized that her lips were shaping a plea, for more, for him, but every time it felt like she was going to spill over, every time that she thought that her body would erupt from the pleasure, he pulled back just enough that she was left gasping.

  “Whenever you want to climax, love, you tell me,” he said, and there was an edge of victory to his voice. He knew he would win, and she realized with a flash of honesty that she wanted him to win as well.

  He brought her to the edge over and over again, letting her teeter on the edge of her climax and drawing back. Finally, when she was so close that she could have cried, the last bit of her control broke, and a ragged cry was torn from her lips.