A Werewolf to Call Her Own (Mystic Isle, Book 2) (7 page)

He was so handsome with a fine sheen of sweat. Sweat she’d caused, that they’d worked up together. She wanted to make this good for him because she was pretty sure he was off the charts when it came to this sort of thing.

Straightening, she raked her fingers gently down his chest, stopping to touch his scars. Tease his nipples. Admire his incredible six-pack. She would have to ask him about his workout routine. They could sell it and make millions.

She squeezed him again and his hands closed over her hips. He uttered something in a language she didn’t understand. But she got the gist just by looking in his eyes. He was losing it. And she was torturing him.

Quickly, his hands slid upward, cupped her breasts, then settled again on her hips. Somehow, in the course of one night he’d given her the confidence she’d been looking for her whole life. This handsome wolf had the power to slow her wayward thoughts and make her feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet.

It was time to return the favor.

Giving him what she hoped was a sexy smile, she placed her hands atop his. “You’d better hold on to me,” she murmured. “I’m indestructible.”

Then she proceeded to lift and slide down his cock, faster and faster. Her thighs protested the speed. She tightened his grip on his hands, letting his strength hold her. He started growling.

His gorgeous brown eyes were almost black, locked on her face. She panted from the exertion and felt her climax winding up. Climbing higher around a spiral. Higher and higher. Such sweet, delicious friction. The sexy sound rumbling from his chest, possessive and primitive. His body began to tighten like a snare. Arms, torso, thighs.

“Now, vamp. Now.”

His words sent her hurtling over the edge. She let out a little squeal, her head dropping back. Bliss. Pleasure. Heavy… so heavy.

Beneath her his body tightened further, every muscle and tendon going tight as bone. He growled out his release, his chin jutting toward the ceiling as he crushed her hips between his hands. She took the bruising pressure in stride as she came down from the exquisite high.

Maxim Ciolek had no right to be that sexy. No right at all. Even in the midst of a most primitive release, he was handsome enough to steal her breath and her heart.

She smiled down at him, but his eyes were still closed, his chest rising and falling. He really was unlike any man she’d ever known.

Utterly spent, she collapsed on his chest, falling asleep almost instantly.

Chapter Seven

Maxim lounged against the plush headboard, surrounded in the darkness, watching the beautiful vampiress sleep. She was so innocent and small in his bed. Beautiful and pure. Well, he’d taken some of her purity, but she didn’t seem to hold it against him.

With the shades drawn, the light of day was blocked out, keeping them safely ensconced in a cocoon. He wanted to stay this way. Warm and mellow from lovemaking. The relief from release made him feel light and happier than he’d been in a long time. The look of absolute pleasure on her face as she’d come would be something he’d never forget.

He had to see it again.

She nestled closer and tucked a hand beneath her cheek. She’d all but come apart in his arms. And yet, she obviously felt comfortable enough with him to sleep by his side, trusting him to protect her.

His human side reasoned that she didn’t have much to fear on Mystic Isle. Rules were rules, and here, with Charles Latham on constant watch, the rules were obeyed. No fighting. No weapons.

But his more primitive side realized how vulnerable a young, beautiful woman was. And she obviously feared demons. Or… she had until he’d stepped in.

Tipping his head back against the wall, he stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe the way she’d taken over. Her strength and stealthy roll to his back had surprised him, but in a good way. With her on top he hadn’t worried about hurting her. Not to mention, he could see more of his favorite parts.

He liked that she was gaining confidence in herself. Liked that she’d taken her pleasure.

Again
, his wolf demanded.

Oh, they’d definitely be doing that again. He’d let her rest a little longer, maybe call down for room service. A wolf had to keep his energy up.

He smiled. Thank goodness she hadn’t changed her mind about him.

If his brother could see him now… he could just hear Hunter’s voice.

“
Brother, you’re whooped.”
Hunter’s German accent had taken on a Russian flare over the years, both of which contradicted his latest foray into American life and verbiage.

If this was what whooped meant… Maxim grunted. It was true.
And he liked it
. Sierra was so responsive, so expressive. So unlike any woman he’d ever been with. And this list of hers…

A bucket list
. He’d heard of the idea before. Hunter had mentioned a movie by the same name. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was why such a young person would need a list like that. Perhaps she was just organized.

But then again, he’d been on his own from a young age. Traveling as a necessity. Then he and Danya had struck it rich… He’d found out about Hunter.

They’d been building a strong, solid pack ever since. Needing that closeness that they’d been denied as children.

That hadn’t left a lot of time for fun in the last century.

Perhaps he needed a bucket list of his own. Places and positions he wanted to take the beautiful vamp currently twisted in his bed linen.

Mmm
. Yes. That was a list he could get behind.

Ceara woke to the sound of a ringing phone. She blinked for a moment, trying to gather her bearings. A smile stretched her lips as she stretched her arms over her head.

Maxim
.

She turned over and found the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, she quickly surveyed the room.

“Maxim?”

No answer.

The phone rang again.

Maybe it was him. She answered with a meek, “Hello.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Maxim --” It was sad how breathless she sounded.

“Sleep well?”

“Very.” She couldn’t recall ever sleeping better. It was amazing how calm her mind could be after four orgasms. She blushed.

He must have known it too because his laugh rumbled through the phone line.

“Where are you?” she asked. How could she miss a person she’d known for less than a day? Less than a day…
Dieu
. He was practically a stranger. And she’d had sex with him. Three times!

“Downstairs. You inspired me.”

Her mind stopping running away with her long enough to soak in his words. What was he saying? She frowned. “Inspired you?”

“Your list. I made one of my own. Put on that sexy swimsuit of yours and meet me on the beach.”

She glanced frantically for a clock. “Is it --”

“Well past sundown, Sleeping Beauty.” His words made her melt a little. “Do you really think I’d risk that beautiful skin of yours, much less your life?”

How was it that he could protect her without making her feel claustrophobic? “What are we doing?”

“Come find out, my beautiful vamp.”

Oh, that sexy voice of his. It was her undoing. “I’ll be right there.”

And she was. She dressed with lightning speed, shoved her toes into the flip flops and hit the down button on the private elevator. Two minutes later she was striding through the atrium of the hotel and out onto the sand.

The whole time her body was on full alert, searching for him. And at the same time, sensing that people were looking at her. This time, however, she didn’t mind how little the suit covered. She was a well-loved woman, and right now she felt a warm glow lighting her from the inside out.

She heard someone shout her name and saw him wave from the shoreline. Two jet skis bobbed in the surf behind him.

“Was this on your list?” he asked when she joined him.

“Actually, it was.” Although… she’d planned on learning how to swim first. But she wouldn’t tell him that. First of all, how embarrassing was it that she didn’t know how to swim. Not her fault, though. She’d begged her parents to teach her. They had a pool, after all. And second, he might decide they couldn’t go Jet Skiing and that wouldn’t do.

She threw a shield around her thoughts and smiled at him. He would keep her safe.

“Excellent.”

He’d created his own bucket list. She couldn’t believe it.

“Let me help you.” He held out a hand as she waded into the surf.

She watched his instructions and let him help her on board. “Don’t we need… lifejackets or something?”

“You’re immortal aren’t you?” he asked with a devastating grin. Waist deep in the water, he got her settled onto her Jet Ski and went through the motions again. Safety cord. Throttle. Steering.

There was an unmistakable knot of tension in her stomach. He must have noticed how quiet she was.

“Don’t worry.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll protect you.”

He hopped onto his ski like he’d done it a thousand times. Who was this handsome werewolf who said all the right things? He clipped the safety cord to his shorts and started the engine. His confidence eased her tension. As long as she didn’t think about how big the ocean was or all the scary things in it, she’d be okay. Right?

He revved the engine and took off. She could do this. She had to do this. To prove to herself that she could.

She squeezed the seat with her knees, let out a little squeal and hit the gas slowly. It felt odd to be gliding over the water, using the handles to increase the speed and steer. Very different from driving a car, but it didn’t take her long to get the hang of it and soon they were zipping around the island, laughing and splashing each other beneath the stars.

A good ways out, past the end of the island, he stopped and turned off his machine. She slowed and circled back.

“Next time I’m putting my hair in a ponytail,” she called as she stopped next to him.

“Let me help with that.” He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ears and then pulled her into his lap.

He silenced her squeak of alarm with his lips. “Was this on your list?” he asked.

Making love on a Jet Ski? No. She wasn’t
that
imaginative.

He had the straps of her swimsuit down, revealing her breasts, in two seconds flat. Despite the breeze and water clinging to him, he warmed her with his hands and mouth. Laying her back over his arm, he feasted on her breasts.

I can’t believe this is happening.
The words repeated over and over in her mind, dulling only when he sucked on her nipples. The sharp pleasure/pain blacked everything else out.

“Maxim --”

He kept at it. Cupping her breasts, holding them up so he could devour them. The gentle pulls of his lips brought flood after flood of moisture between her thighs. For endless moments, the whole of her existence was focused on those two singular peaks that brought her so much pleasure.

How had she never realized how sensitive her breasts were? How much pleasure her nipples held? A gentle tug with his teeth brought her shoulders off the seat and a cry echoed across the water.

“Are you ready to come again?”

“Yes!” Who in their right mind wouldn’t be?

He laughed.
Who indeed?

Even though they bobbed in the water,
one wrong move away from swimming with the fishes
, Maxim maneuvered them with ease. Shocking ease.

“I’ve never done this before, so get that thought out of your pretty head.”

She blushed.

He pulled her suit to the side, tested her readiness and shoved his trunks down just far enough to extract his cock. Then, there on the Jet Ski, he gave her another orgasm that left her weak in the knees. And she was pretty sure her shout of ecstasy was probably heard back at the hotel, but it didn’t matter.

It was a sex resort, after all. No one would notice another shout of completion.

Ceara was limp as a noodle and in no form to man her own Jet Ski. Maxim kept her snuggled against him and charted a course for the shore.

They pulled up in front of the hotel, where the night was in full swing. Ceara was a little embarrassed to have departed with two Jet Skis and return with only one. But, she reasoned, for all any of the onlookers knew, she’d had an accident.

One of the hotel staff came into the water to help her off.

“Wait here while I go get the other Jet Ski?”

She was surprised that he’d formed it as a question. Truth was, she felt a little grimy, her hair was a complete wreck, and she wanted to check in with the girls. Not that she was going to tell them everything, but she was pretty darn excited about the whole Jet Ski excursion.
The fact that she’d actually ridden one and not fallen off.
Not to mention Maxim.

“Ceara?”

She shook her head to clear it and noticed that the staff member had hopped onto the back of Maxim’s ski.

“Sorry.”

“Be thinking about what else is on your list.”

Oh she had plenty of ideas. And she’d devoured the resort’s pamphlets so she knew exactly what she wanted to do next. “How about you meet me at the zip-line in two hours? I want to go change and check in with my coven.”

Even in the spotty outdoor lighting she could see his lips twist with disappointment. But he nodded. “Two hours.” Then he took off.

Chapter Eight

Of all the excursions on the island, she’d picked the one guaranteed to make him sweat bullets.

“Maxim!”

A feminine voice drew his attention skyward. Soft lights highlighted a labyrinth of stairs leading up to a perch high in the trees. Sierra waved him up.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” she said when he joined her.

He bit back a snarl when a stocky staffer started strapping her into a harness. Whether he wanted to go on this crazy ride or not, he didn’t like the other man’s hands that close to her crotch.

Which was silly. Insane even. They’d known each other for two days. There was no reason to be so territorial. But that didn’t stop the wolf inside him from bristling.