Dark Wolf Running (Bloodrunners) (17 page)

She shivered again and had no doubt he could see just how aroused she was by the look on her face and in her eyes, her body practically steaming she was so turned on. It took her a few tries, with the way her fingers were shaking, but she finally managed to get the silky tie secured around his strong wrists, binding them to the headboard.

“Done,” she whispered as she sat back on her heels, impressed with her handiwork.

He gave a little experimental tug, then jerked his chin at her. “Now get your gorgeous little ass over here and ride me.”

“Through your jeans?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” His voice was raw, every mouthwatering muscle in his long body coiled tight with need. “Right through my jeans.”

Biting her lip, she straddled his waist, then scooted back, until she could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her core. He was long and hard and impossibly thick, but instead of freaking her out, her body responded with a melting rush of heat that was probably soaking through her panties and right through her sweats.

“Now take control of me, El. Use me. I’m all yours. Just be gentle,” he said with another sexy smirk, staring up at her from beneath the thick weight of his lashes. She knew he was trying to tease her, to ease her through her fears, and she couldn’t help but smile, completely charmed. He was wonderfully hard, everywhere, his arms and torso corded with muscle and sinew, powerful thighs tensed and ready—and yet, he held himself completely still for her, giving himself over to her in a way that she never would have imagined a man as dominant as Wyatt could do.

“Christ, El. You are so beautiful,” he rasped, the quiet words rough with lust. He was always saying things like that to her, and she knew she would never get tired of hearing it.

“Wyatt,” she breathed out, leaning over him and gripping his round biceps, loving how they flexed beneath her hands.

“Move,” he forced out through his gritted teeth. “Now, El. Fucking ride me.”

Biting her lip again, she gave a tentative roll of her hips, her breath catching at how incredible it felt to rub that most sensitive part of her body against his denim-covered erection. He was unbelievably huge and so freaking hard it made her insides clench when she thought of how mind-shattering it would be to have all those long, stiff inches buried deep inside her.

His head dug into the pillow as he stared up at her, a feral look in his eyes. She moved a little harder against him, increasing her speed, and watched those dark eyes nearly roll back in his head. His throat worked on a hard swallow, voice little more than a guttural, savage animal sound as he said, “You feel so damn good.”

“You, too,” she whispered, breathless, thinking that friction was great. Friction was her freaking new best friend. Forget chocolate and ice cream and hazelnut lattes. Her and friction were going to be inseparable from now on, so long as Wyatt Pallaton was willing to lend her a hand. Or his body.

“You gonna come, El?”

“Yes,” she hissed, moving her hips faster, her fingers clenching against his hard biceps as she felt her body flush with heat, the roots of her hair damp with sweat. “Can you?”

“Can I what?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with a wicked, predatory spark within his outrageously beautiful face. He was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever set eyes on, and yet, he was 100 percent male. Rough and rugged and deliciously masculine, from his woodsy scent to his incredibly ripped physique. Even his forearms were sexy as hell, muscle and sinew and thick veins bulging beneath his bronzed skin as he gripped the headboard tighter, until the wood started to groan.

“Can you come this way?” she gasped, so wet now she knew she was probably leaving a damp spot on the front of his jeans.

“You want me to?” he growled, his nostrils flaring as she watched him from beneath her lashes, both of them breathing as if they were nearing the finish line of a marathon.

She nodded as she licked her lips, not trusting her voice if she tried to speak.

“Then touch yourself.” The rough words were sharp with command. “Put your hand inside your underwear and get your fingers wet for me.”

“Why?” she asked, curious about where he was going with this.

“Because if I’m going to come in my pants like a goddamn horny teenager,” he explained, lifting his hips against her, “then I at least want your taste in my mouth when I do it.”

Oh.
Well, when he put it like that...how could she argue? And why would she even want to? Color burned in her face, but she didn’t let embarrassment hold her back. Damn it, she wasn’t a virgin, and she didn’t plan on acting like one. So with that private little pep talk ringing through her head, she took a deep breath and slipped her fingers under the waistband of the sweats, inside her panties and down between her legs, where she was slippery and slick, melting into a liquid rush of heat.

“Fuck, yes,” he hissed a moment later, when she pulled her glistening fingers from the top of her sweats. “Now put them in my mouth, El. Let me suck on your juices while you’re rubbing me out.”

Gripping his hard shoulder with her other hand, she lifted her wet fingers, thinking she’d simply place them against his parted lips. But as soon as they were close enough, he lifted his head and covered her fingers with his mouth. She gasped, the sight of him sucking so hungrily on her taste almost as sexy as the primal, animalistic sounds he was making.

“So goddamn sweet,” he snarled when he finally pulled back, his rough tongue still licking her fingers clean, as if he were greedy for every drop of her flavor.

“Wyatt, I’m c-close,” she stammered, her voice rising.

His jaw tightened and she felt his legs shift, then realized he’d been bracing his feet against the bed when he suddenly shoved his hips up harder against her, his cock like a brand against her sensitive folds even with the layers of clothing between them. “Do it
now,
” he ordered, the guttural tone of the wolf nearly drowning out the voice of the man. “I want to come with you, El. So do it the fuck now!”

She flung her head back and screamed as the orgasm tore through her, her body reacting to his raw, erotic command as if she’d been put under his spell. And maybe she had. This certainly didn’t seem like her, because she could never remember being this wild with her pleasure, her arms folded over her head as she ground her pulsing sex against him so hard she could feel the instant he started to ejaculate. His back arched, tendons straining, as the most visceral, guttural roar she’d ever heard surged up from his chest, the powerful feel of his own release pumping through him only making her come even harder. Her orgasm was lush and strong and bone-meltingly good, and after what seemed like a long, endless forever, she finally collapsed against his hot, sweaty chest, his mouthwatering scent filling her nose as she struggled to remember how to pull air into her aching lungs.

The sound of his rough voice telling her to untie him was the only thing that could have compelled her to move. Still a little too shaken to look him in the eye, she kept her gaze focused on her task as she leaned over him and undid the knot, freeing his wrists. Before she could even lean back or move to his side, he sat up and wrapped those strong arms around her, clutching her against him. One hand found its way into the back of her hair, fisting the heavy strands, the other moving low across her back as he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips and his tongue. When she groaned, liking the taste, he took her mouth even harder, deeper, eating at her as if he needed her to breathe. She hoped she would one day be able to capture this kind of need in her writing, but knew she still hadn’t come anywhere close. How could she have, when she’d never experienced it for herself until now?

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” he growled against her lips.

“You’re pretty incredible yourself,” she whispered.

When he finally stopped ravaging her mouth, he rubbed his nose against hers, the tender gesture making her breath catch. Then he carefully twisted and laid her down against the bed so that her head was on his pillow, and reached for the blanket at the foot of the mattress to cover her up. “Sleep tight, beautiful.”

Uh...what on earth?

“Wyatt?” she murmured, sitting up as he slipped off the bed and back to his feet. With a start, she realized he was already hard again, his cock rigid behind the damp fly of his jeans, his gorgeous eyes still heavy with lust. But if he was still aroused, then why was he leaving her? “Where are you going?”

“To take a shower. The colder the better,” he told her, a wry grin on his sensual lips as he backed away from the bed. He moved slowly, almost as if he didn’t want to go but was forcing himself to. “We’re talking arctic, because it’s the only way I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you until you’re ready for more.” His gaze swept over her face, taking in her kiss-swollen lips and the hot flush of pleasure on her cheeks, and he winked at her just before he turned and walked through the doorway. “And you’d better not be laughing at me, woman, because that ain’t cool after you got me in this state!” he called out from behind the closed bathroom door, the teasing note in his voice making the grin that had suddenly started to curl her lips turn downright sappy.

Flopping back onto the bed, Elise buried her face in his pillow and muffled the laughter she couldn’t stop, wondering if she’d lost her mind. It was either that or her heart. She was screwed, either way. But at the moment she was just too damn happy to care.

She might not have made love to Wyatt, but she’d brought him pleasure. Had made him curse and moan and come. It was something she’d never thought she would have—but now that she’d gotten it, she wanted more. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to want every single freaking thing he could give her.

Even though she knew they could never be hers.

Chapter 10

T
hree days later, Elise closed down her laptop and moved it to the end of the kitchen table, where she’d been working for the evening. Wyatt was out on patrol again, which meant she had the cabin to herself. But aside from the times when he was guarding the Alley, they’d spent nearly every waking moment together. Moments that she’d enjoyed so much more than she’d ever expected. Hell, they were so good she was craving him in his absence. Not just his incredible looks or his sexy, lopsided grins. She missed everything about him. The way he made her feel. The way he made her smile in a way that she never remembered doing, even before the attack that had changed her life. The kind of smiles that bloomed from deep inside, in the place where hopes and dreams and wishes were stored. She’d thought that place had been killed in her a long time ago. But she’d been wrong. And she had Wyatt to thank for showing her that.

Actually, she had Wyatt to thank for a lot of things—but she wanted more. Only problem was, he wasn’t giving them to her. Not since the day he’d taken her up to Shadow Peak. It was a little surprising at first, but she should have known he would be different. With any other guy, she’d have expected him to keep trying to get in her pants, whether it was what she wanted or not. But Wyatt wasn’t just any other guy. There was so much more to him than that Y chromosome, and she was falling hard because of it.

He was, quite simply, too good to be true. Funny. Charming. Patient.

And yeah, there were also times when he could be quiet and self-contained. But she had a feeling those moods were a learned behavior for him. A way of coping. There was pain somewhere in his past, though she was no closer to learning what had caused it. But she knew it was there. Like a shadow that always followed him, it flavored his moods, shaping his expressions and the things he said. The way he reacted to certain situations...and to people, as well. Like her. Did everyone else see it? Or did they simply buy his sometimes-stoic act and think it was just a part of who he was? Yeah, he laughed and joked around and used his sharp sense of humor like a whip, but it was so obvious to her that there was a part of him always under lockdown. That was something she didn’t have any problem understanding. Hell, she’d spent most of her life with some of her soul locked up tight inside her, where she could keep it safe.

She’d spent the night they’d made out in his bed, but only the one. He hadn’t kissed her again, and she hadn’t asked him to. But the looks he gave her were still as heated and intense.

Elise didn’t know why he hadn’t slept beside her, considering she’d been in
his
bed, but tried not to worry about it. She knew she could always ask, but that seemed kind of desperate, and she didn’t want him to think she was obsessing about him. Even though she
was,
which was embarrassing and probably pathetic. But, God, if a woman were going to obsess about a guy, Wyatt Pallaton was the
perfect
choice.

Though she felt safe and at ease in the Alley, her nightmares were becoming more frequent, and the worst had been just that morning, at daybreak. She’d dreamed she was running through a forest, being chased by a bloodthirsty pack of wolves intent on destroying her, body and soul. She’d woken up screaming, only to find a protective-looking, bare-chested Wyatt rushing into the spare bedroom where she slept. Once he’d realized what was wrong, he’d climbed onto the bed, braced his back against the headboard, pulled her across his lap and tucked her head under his chin. Then he’d wrapped his strong arms around her trembling body, lowered his head and softly sung a Native American lullaby to her that he’d said his mother had often sung to him when he was a boy. It had been haunting and beautiful, his deep voice lulling her back to sleep within minutes. When she’d awakened later in the morning, she’d been alone, and he hadn’t mentioned what had happened when she’d briefly seen him for breakfast. Actually, she hadn’t seen him much during the daylight hours at all today, since he’d been busy with the other Runners, and she’d been wrangled into helping Jillian with painting the nursery. Then they’d shared dinner with everyone at Carla’s cabin, and Wyatt had left to go out on patrol.
Again.