Dark Wolf Running (Bloodrunners) (16 page)

His hooded gaze did a swift pass down her body, lingering for a moment on her breasts, her nipples thick against the thin veils of lace and cotton, and then he seemed to shake himself a little, before lifting those dark eyes back to her face. His expression was etched with concern. “Why? Is it because of what happened in town today?”

“No.” Determined not to panic and run, she forced herself to take a step toward the bed. “I just... I want to feel safe tonight.”

“You feel safe with me?” he asked, and it was clear from his husky tone that she’d surprised him once again.

She bit her lip. “Yes,” she said a little breathlessly. “I don’t...I don’t know why, but I do. And please don’t ask me to explain. I just want to be close to you.”

Lying back down against the pillows, he shifted onto his side and said, “Then come here and I’ll hold you. Just hold you. Okay?”

She nodded with a profound surge of relief, then swiftly went into his arms, her back to his front as she cuddled against him on the bed. She should have been terrified, choked with fear, the same way she’d been every time she’d thought about being this close to a man in the past three years. But she wasn’t. She didn’t. Instead, she felt as if she were exactly where she was meant to be. And, God, was that a mistake, considering everything that stood between them. Everything that would keep them apart.

“I have to be honest with you,” she whispered into the heavy silence, feeling like an idiot but needing to make at least this one confession. “I didn’t come in here because I’m scared. I came in here because I wanted to feel like this with you. Breathless...
excited.
But I don’t know if I can go to the end with it, and that isn’t fair. Not to you. I’m just...just using you.”

“Like hell you are,” he grunted, holding her a little tighter, his heart pounding hard and fast against her spine. “If you want pleasure, El, I’m more than happy to give you some. Or a lot. Do
not
feel bad about that or second-guess it. Just go with what feels right. We get to the point you want to stop, then we stop. No argument. You get me?”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. Minutes ticked by slowly, and though she was enjoying the hell out of being in his arms, wrapped up in his intoxicating warmth, she couldn’t hold back the words that had started building inside her. Clutching his forearms, she said, “Wyatt, you’re hot as sin and a nice guy. You could choose
any
woman you wanted and she would be thrilled to go out with you.”

He laughed quietly just above her ear, and she could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “But not you?”

Instead of answering, she asked, “So why aren’t you out with one of them?” She rolled over so that she could see his face, her gaze remaining locked with his as he shifted to his back. When he raised one of his muscular arms and tucked his open hand behind his head, it was so freaking sexy she nearly forgot what she’d been saying. Voice a little huskier than before, she licked her lips, lifted up onto an elbow and finally managed to demand, “Why are you doing this? What the hell are you trying to achieve? Because you can’t fix me. And it’s not even your place to try.”

His lashes lowered over the smoldering heat in his eyes, his chest rising with a deep, almost aggressive-sounding breath. “Whose place is it?”

“No one’s, other than my own. And I’m fine with the way things are.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “You can spout that ‘I’m a tough bitch and don’t need anyone’ crap to everyone else, but I’m not buying it, El. You’re lonely and you’re scared and you deserve a hell of a lot more than life has thrown at you.”

She closed her eyes and bit her lip again, letting those harsh but incredible words wash through her, making her shiver. The old El would have gotten pissed and mouthed off—but he was right. At least about the lonely-and-scared part. When she lifted her lashes, she sat up and forced herself to say, “When you kissed me today, I felt... I didn’t think I would
ever
feel like that again. And I don’t know that I could ever have more than that now. I also know it isn’t fair...I mean, I don’t want you to think that I’m a tease. I just...”

“You just want another kiss.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered him anyway. “Yeah.”

His abs bunched beneath his tight skin as he sat up, moving the hand he’d had behind his head to her face and rubbing his thumb against the side of her mouth. “Christ, you are so beautiful.”

“I’m not. I’m scarred, Wyatt. Inside and out.” His gaze flickered with irritation, but she cut him off before he could argue with her. “It’s the truth.”

“I call bullshit again, El. Because you
are
beautiful. Gorgeous. The most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. But I
will
control myself. I want you, but I won’t push you into anything. I’m willing to wait for you to be ready, so don’t waste time worrying about what you think is fair and what isn’t.”

Wrapping her hands around his wrist, she said, “Just tell me why, Wyatt. Why would you do this? I meant what I said. You’re... You could have any woman you wanted. Why
me?

He leaned toward her and answered with the electrifying heat of his mouth, rubbing his lips against hers. Then he deepened the kiss, tongue to tongue, his rough hand gently cupping the side of her face. She got lost in the velvety dark heat of his mouth, the kiss flavored with the whiskey he’d drank after dinner. It was slow and sensual and heated, asking nothing of her except that she give in to the pleasure and not fight it. That she let it flow through her veins like a fine wine, the heavy beating of her heart telling her exactly how much her body liked the feeling.

When he finally broke the kiss and lifted his head, he stared down at her through the thick weight of his ink-colored lashes. They were so decadent and long they left shadows just above his sharp cheekbones. “I can be patient because I think you’re worth waiting for,” he told her in that low, smoky voice that seemed to melt into her. “So don’t, for one second, think I don’t want you, because I do. I’m hard and hurting, but I can wait. I
will
wait.”

She shook her head, no idea what to make of him. He seemed too freaking good to be true. “You’re... I don’t understand you.”

“Trust me,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I don’t understand me, either. If I had any brains at all, I’d be doing everything I could to talk you into wanting more right this second so that I could strip you out of those little sweats and bury myself so deep you could feel me here,” he growled, pressing his big hand over her belly.

Clenching her teeth, Elise tried to deal with the need twisting through her that was unlike anything she’d ever known. Tried to beat it down into something that she could swallow and hide. That she could ignore, pretending it didn’t exist, since she wasn’t ready for what he wanted. But it was impossible. Damn it, she
needed
him. Needed him to make it right!

“Wyatt, p-please.” Her voice quivered, face tingly and hot. “I’m not ready for that, but please give me...something.
Anything.
Don’t make me leave your bed feeling like this.”

“Christ, El. I couldn’t ever make you leave my bed,” he admitted in a guttural rasp, kissing his way down the side of her face as he moved the hand on her belly in firm, soothing circles. “I want you here too badly.”

Oh, God.
In that moment, she was nothing but sensation, pulsing in tender, sensitive places—her eyelids, throat, the insides of her wrists, behind her knees. The pleasure of his touch had invaded every part of her, coursing through her system like an addictive force, overtaking her, overwhelming her.

“Tell me what else you want,” she whispered, digging her nails into his powerful shoulders, undone by the feel of his tight skin stretched over heavy muscle. By his power. His heat. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Nuzzling her ear with his nose, he said, “You want to hear what I want to do to you?”

Her answer came on a soft, shivering moan.
“Yes.”

“All right. But I get to touch you while I’m talking. Okay?”

She nodded, so excited she couldn’t stay still, her body thrumming with need.

He lifted his head, locking her in a gaze that was so heated she felt burned. “I need the words, El.”

“Yes. Okay,” she breathed out, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. “You c-can touch me.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, nipping her chin. He kissed his way down the front of her trembling throat as he pushed her to her back, then braced himself over her on his hands and knees. Lying against the Wyatt-scented bedding, she shivered as his lips coasted over her collarbone, traveling lower, until he took the neckline of her tank top in his teeth. Then he tugged it down, shifting his hold, until he’d managed to get it caught under her breasts.

“Jesus. You’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, staring down at her bra-covered breasts as if he wanted to eat her alive. Her bra was pale cream lace, almost the same color as her skin, the pink of her nipples easy to see through the intricate pattern—but thankfully not her scars. She blinked, panting, as she watched him lower his dark head and flick his tongue against one lace-covered tip, licking it four more times before moving to the other one. She watched, transfixed, wanting to see him lick that nipple, too. But he flicked his sharp, searing gaze up to hers as he took the sensitive peak in his mouth instead. She gasped at the wet, delicious heat of his mouth surrounding her—then cried out as he started to suck on her...
hard.
Intense, piercing shards of pleasure spread out from the tip of her breast, coursing through her system, making her moan and writhe. He growled low in his throat, moving back to the nipple he’d first licked and sucked at it even harder, and she could feel that rough animal sound vibrating against her, her cries ratcheting up a notch, throaty and raw.

“That’s it, El.” His breathing was hard and loud, each ragged pant blowing against her tingling nipple. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Let me know how much you like it.”

“I love it!” she practically shouted, lifting her hands and shoving her fingers into his silky hair, holding him to her tighter as she arched up, pressing her breast against his gorgeous face. “Love it, love it, love it,” she chanted. “God, Wyatt, I am so freaking in love with your mouth!”

She could feel him smile against her breast but was feeling too incredible to be embarrassed. “That’s good, baby. Because I want every part of you in it. These sweet little nipples—they’re like pieces of candy on my tongue. I can’t get enough of them.” He went back to her other breast, sucking and licking through the lace, nipping at the softly pulsing peak, then rested his forehead between the quivering mounds, his breathing jagged as he gripped her sides in his big hands, his thumbs stroking against her ribs.

“Wyatt?” she whispered, when a hard shudder wracked his powerful frame. “You okay?”

He lifted his head, and for the first time since she’d met him, she could see the primal hunger of his wolf in his eyes, burning in that glittering midnight-black. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and said, “I mean it, El. Every part of you. In. My. Mouth.”

Her eyes went wide, then even wider when she heard herself ask, “What part do you want the most?”

She could feel the tremor that moved through him as she gripped his broad, muscular shoulders, her own body shaking with sweet, shivering chills as he skimmed his lips along the edge of her jaw. “I want that sweet little cove between your thighs, El. I want to lick it. Lap at it like a cat. Suck on your clit until you can’t do anything but hold on to me and scream from the pleasure.”

She trembled even harder as his husky, erotic words curled against her skin, same as they had earlier that day, at her house. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips between her breasts, then to the hollow of her throat, where her pulse was rushing madly, and finally back to her lips, his tongue raking her mouth with melting, destructive skill.

“I want to put my tongue inside you, just like this,” he whispered, thrusting his tongue into the tender depths of her mouth. “Want to put my lips around your delicate little opening and drink from you. Take those slick juices into my mouth and swallow them down.”

“Oh, God,” she gasped, moaning his name.

“You want me to give you more, sweetheart?”

She caught her lip in her teeth, loving how it made him groan almost as much as she loved the way he called her
sweetheart.
“Y-yes. But I’m... I don’t know if I can...”

He muttered something against her hair, his breath warm against her scalp, sending another delicious shiver racing over her skin. Then he pulled back and braced himself on his straight arms, his thick hair falling around his face like a silken wave of darkness. “Do you trust me?” he asked her. His voice was rough and low but soft, a tender look of hunger burning in the glittering depths of his eyes. It made her feel molten, restless, as if she was getting ready to come out of her skin. “Answer the question, El.”

“Y-yes,” she answered with all honesty, stunned to realize that it was true. “I trust you.”

The next thing she knew, she was sitting up on the bed alone, watching him cross the room to his dresser. He opened a drawer, rummaged around in it, then turned and came back to the bed, a dark blue tie clutched in one powerful fist.

Whoa. What the hell?

“I’m not letting you tie me up, Wyatt.”
Not in this lifetime!

He smirked as he came onto the bed on his knees. “It’s not for you, El.”

“Huh?”

Tossing the tie to her, he laid down on his back and stretched his long arms over his head, gripping one of the slats in the headboard. Her gaze pinged from the impressive bulge at his crotch to the dark, masculine tufts of hair under his arms, then settled onto his breathtaking gaze. “Now what?” she asked through tingling lips.

“Now
you
tie
me
up.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious? You’d let me do that?”

“Sure. I trust you,” he murmured with a sexy, playful wink. “I’d let you do anything you wanted to me.”

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