Dark Wolf Running (Bloodrunners) (26 page)

“I wouldn’t dare,” he murmured, grinning as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Well, you know the book you read to me the other night?” she asked a little breathlessly, her voice shaking with nerves.

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath, her delicate fingers clenching against his side, then slowly exhaled. “Um, well, I’m writing one of my own.”

A broad smile spread across Wyatt’s face. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. “Are you serious?”

Nodding, she said, “Yep.”

“That’s so incredible,” he told her, unable to resist hugging her even tighter. He was probably crushing her, but she wasn’t complaining.

“Well, I haven’t done anything with it yet,” she murmured shyly. “It’s just a dream of mine, really.”

“But you’re putting the work in and doing it, El. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, and he could tell by her voice that there was a wide, beautiful smile on her lips as she pressed a kiss to the center of his chest, right over the heavy beat of his heart. Their bodies were still heat-glazed and slick, the air thick with the scents of raw desire. His was earthy and male, hers so mouthwatering he just wanted to lick her from head to toe, lingering over all the sweet spots in between. He was still hard and aching, but she was falling asleep against him, and that was, in its own way, just as sweet. God knew he craved her more than he could have ever imagined craving a woman—but he craved these moments, as well. The trust it took for her to snuggle against him, surrendering to sleep. He’d have given his right arm for the ability to stay there, beside her, wrapped around her like a friggin’ octopus. Arms and legs tangled together, heads sharing the same pillow. Her beautiful face the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning.
Every
morning.

Yes-s-s,
his wolf hissed inside his mind, but he knew he had no business listening to it.

Wyatt waited until she slept peacefully, then carefully moved from the bed. Standing at the side of the mattress, he shoved his fingers back through his hair, wishing like hell that he could just crawl back onto the rumpled bedding and cuddle up against her. Drape himself in her womanly curves, her mouthwatering scent filling his head, while need simmered through his veins in an intoxicating rush.

He thought about the conversation they’d just had about her writing, and smiled. Who would have guessed the little badass redhead was such a romantic at heart? He loved knowing her secret. Loved that she’d trusted him with it. And now he wanted to know them all. Wanted to be intimately acquainted with every facet of her personality, of her very soul, and claim them for his own.

Damn it, he didn’t want to leave. What he wanted was to
stay.
He wanted to hold her in his arms, letting her sleep for a while, and then wake her up by kissing his way down her beautiful body, spreading her legs, and lashing her clit with his hungry tongue until she was moaning and begging him to come into her again. To take her. Make her come in another one of those blinding, mind-shattering climaxes that damn near stopped his heart. His wolf prowled beneath his skin, restless and possessive, wanting it every bit as badly as the man. But they couldn’t have it, because he didn’t trust himself.

Hating his past and the mistakes he’d made more deeply than he ever had before, Wyatt stalked quietly from the room, forcing himself to leave behind the only thing in the world he’d ever wanted for his own...and knowing damn well that he didn’t deserve to keep it.

Chapter 15

A
s she opened her eyes to the watery morning sunlight, it took Elise all of two seconds to realize that she was the only person lying in Wyatt’s sex-rumpled bed. Running her hand over the far side of the mattress, the sheets were achingly cold, and she knew that she’d spent the night alone. He’d left her instead of sleeping beside her, and a spark of anger slowly started to build beneath her lingering happiness.

The coward.
She’d taken a chance and given him everything last night, but he hadn’t done the same. No, he’d cut and run, and she felt she deserved an explanation.

It didn’t take her long to brush her teeth and hair, then dress in a flowing white sundress that was flirty but casual, which she’d thankfully had in the small bag he must have brought in from Cian’s Land Rover sometime during the night. Struggling to control her temper, she padded out of his bedroom on her bare feet and went in search of him.

“You left me,” she said with a soft note of accusation the moment she found him sitting behind his desk in the small room he used as an office. “You didn’t sleep beside me last night.”

A lock of hair fell over his brow as he looked up from his laptop, a guarded expression on his gorgeous face that made her heart give a painful little jolt.

“I trusted you,” she told him, coming into the room. He was bare-chested and breathtaking, and even though she was upset, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Can’t you trust me, too, Wyatt?”

Drawing an unsteady breath, he said, “It’s not the same, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

He sat back in his leather desk chair and rubbed a hand over his mouth, watching her with a look that was equal parts wariness, fear and need. Finally, he scraped out a stilted reply. “Most nights I have...nightmares, El. Violent ones.”

She tilted her head a bit to the side as she studied him. “I’m sorry. But why does that mean that you have to—”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you!” he choked out, surging to his feet so quickly the chair he’d been sitting in crashed against the wall behind him. Fisting his hands at his sides, he said, “Don’t you get it? I don’t trust what I might do if I slept beside you. If I struck out and hit you by accident, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Understanding started to filter through her frustration, and she walked over to him, putting her hands on his powerful shoulders, begging him with her eyes to open up to her and tell her about his demons. Because she knew they were the driving force behind more than just his refusal to sleep beside her. They were what kept him from thinking she would want him for more than a hot, blistering affair. What kept him from following his primal instincts and demanding she give him everything, every part of her, forever.

His dark gaze was locked tight with hers, his hands clutching her waist as his lips parted, and she prayed to every god she’d ever heard of that this was it—that he was going to open up to her
now.
But all he ended up saying was “I’m sorry, El. After last night, the last thing I wanted was to upset you.” He lowered his head, burying his face in her hair, his lips moving against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Forgive me?”

“I guess,” she murmured, unable to stay irritated when he was melting her down with the sensual touch of his mouth at the side of her throat.

His hands started to slide up her back, and she could feel his heat through the thin cotton of her dress. “Please, baby. I’m begging you.”

She gave in with a soft sigh of surrender. “Well, when you say it like that, yes. I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” he said huskily, slanting his mouth over hers with a ferocity that made her breath catch. The devastating kiss was deep and hungry, their tongues rubbing and tasting, his hands in her hair, tilting her head until he had her right where he wanted, the angle letting him plunge into her mouth again and again. When their lungs were aching for air, they finally broke apart to draw in desperate breaths—and then their lips were fusing together again, as if drawn by a magnetic force. She lost herself in the warm silk of his mouth, intoxicated by his taste and the way he touched her.

“I want you,” he growled, gently nipping the side of her mouth as he cupped her jaw.

“Mmm,” she moaned, while he pressed tender kisses across her flushed cheek. “You can have me, Mr. Pallaton.”

His low voice rumbled in her ear, and she could tell he was smiling. “I’m holding you to that later, Miss Drake.”

Confusion creased her brow. “Not now?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he breathed against her lips, before lifting his head. Electric sparks of heat skittered in the air between them as their gazes locked, and she knew he’d felt it, too, his hands tightening in her hair. His rugged face was tense with lust, and there was a grittier edge to his words as he said, “I’d have you on your back, legs spread, with every inch of my dick buried deep before you could even blink, sweetheart. But your brother wants to talk to you. He’s already stopped by twice. I told him you were still sleeping.”

“Oh. Does he, um, know that we slept together?”

“Would you care if he did?” he asked a little too carefully, a vulnerable edge to his words that she knew he didn’t want her to hear.

“No.” She gave him a soft smile. “I don’t want to hide what happened between us.”

His lips curved into a crooked grin that was stunningly beautiful, the wicked heat in his dark eyes melting her, making her even wetter than she already was. “Good. Because I’m pretty sure anyone who sees us together is going to know I’m thinking about getting you naked again. I can try, but I doubt I’ll be very good at hiding it.”

Elise was still smiling as she lifted up onto her tiptoes and kissed him again, her hands finding their way into the silky mass of his hair as if it were the most natural place in the world for them to be. He made a deliciously thick, aroused sound in the back of his throat, his powerful arms wrapping around her, holding her close as he lifted her off her feet, taking her mouth as if he wanted to own her, and she laughed into the kiss, happier in that moment than she could ever remember being. It was every birthday and Christmas and special occasion that she had longed for as a child, all rolled into one bone-melting, heart-stopping kiss.

“Jesus, you are so damn dangerous,” he growled against her lips, before setting her back on her feet.

Elise touched her fingers to her tingling lips as she grinned, loving that he let her see how badly he wanted her. It was written like a neon sign flashing in his smoldering eyes, carved into the tight bunch of his muscles beneath his dark skin. “I guess I’ll just go and, um, finish getting ready, then.”

She started to turn to leave, but he gripped her waist and said, “No.”

Her pulse raced as she lifted her brows. “No?”

“Eric can bloody well wait,” he muttered, slowly bunching the skirt of her dress in his fist, inching the fabric up her thighs. “I can’t.”

A breathless laugh rushed up from her chest. “Finally! I was hoping you’d say that!”

He smiled as he gave her a quick, hard kiss. Then he lifted his head, and Elise gasped as she saw the sharp, visceral hunger etched into the masculine angles of his face. Keeping his dark gaze locked with hers, he trailed a rough hand up the back of her thigh until he was touching her between her legs, his strong fingers playing skillfully over the drenched satin panel of her bikini-cut underwear—and then he tore them off of her. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, El?”

With his heart beating out a hard, hammering rhythm, Wyatt watched as Elise shook her head, thinking she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever known or seen or imagined. Unable to wait, he lifted her with his hands under her sweet ass and moved her to his desk, shoving his laptop aside so that he could sit her on the top. Her mouthwatering scent filled his head as he ripped the sexy sundress he figured she’d worn just to drive him insane over her head, then tossed it to the floor, too desperate to get to her soft, womanly curves to be careful.

“I meant what I said, El. I can’t wait,” he growled, spreading her legs and stepping between them, his heavy gaze focused in sharp and tight on the pink, glistening folds of her sex. His hand shook as he ripped open his fly, only lowering his jeans enough that his cock could spring free.

She gasped as she glanced down at him, blue eyes bright with need. “Me, neither,” she moaned, leaning back and bracing herself on her elbows, giving him a breathtaking view of her flushed face, lush breasts and smooth belly. “Hurry, Wyatt!”

Gritting his teeth, he reached down and positioned himself, then watched with burning eyes as his thick shaft stretched open the puffy, delicate entrance. The clasp of her inner cushiony walls as he worked himself into her was so slick and tight and sweet, it nearly made his eyes roll back in his head. The woman was so hot she was going to burn him to a crisp.

Nearly a minute later, they were both breathing hard, and Wyatt was still only about halfway in. He wanted to thrust and shove and work his way deeper, but she was so goddamn snug. “I swear you feel even tighter this morning. How the hell is that possible?”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I think I’m, um, swollen. You know...from last night.”

“Never be sorry,” he groaned, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers. “What you are is perfect, El. Every sexy little inch of you.”

“You, too.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Hardly. But I love that you think so.” Knowing he was going to lose it, he wrapped his arms around her slender form, picked her up, then sat back in his leather desk chair, putting her on top of him. “Seriously, El. Don’t ever be sorry for being so tight for me. Or for getting even tighter after I’ve ridden you hard,” he said with a quiet growl, squeezing her ass. “Because I love how snug you are. I’m just worried about hurting you. It would make me feel like such a bastard.”

Straddling his lap, she stared down at him with a teasing gleam in her beautiful eyes and laughed. “It’s not your fault you’re built so over-the-top, Wyatt.”

With his hands firmly gripping her backside, he slowly pulsed his hips, pushing in another inch. His breath left his lungs on a low growl, his hands shaking. “But this is the first time in my life I actually wish I was smaller.”

She giggled, and he gasped as he felt the sweet sound vibrating around his dick. “You know, I’m pretty sure no man has ever uttered those particular words before.”

“Yeah, well, if I screw this up,” he groaned, breathless, “you won’t ever let me touch you again. And
I’m
pretty sure that would kill me.”