Come Moonrise (7 page)

He grabbed her hips with both hands and
rammed into her. "No," he said, sounding angry, "no one has ever
said that to me in this situation before."

Why was he mad?

She had no hope of figuring it out now. He
was loving her so hard and so fast that her thoughts splintered to
nothingness in a shower of exploding sparks.

Pleasure pounded through her, tightening her
womb until she felt like she was going to die if she didn’t come
again.

She whimpered brokenly, not knowing what to
do.

"What is it, baby?"

"I want to come."

"Then come."

"I can’t." She threw her head back and hit
his chest. "Touch me again. Please, Ty."

He nuzzled her ear, his breath hot and his
tongue wet on sensitive flesh, sending shivers through her. "Touch
yourself."

"No, I..." She’d never done that before with
a man. "I can’t," she gasped out.

"Yes, you can."

"I’ll fall," she said desperately, snatching
at excuses.

"I’ll hold you up.
Do it
." Then he pulled
her back so he was kneeling behind her and she was supported on his
thighs.

He continued his thrusting, but his hands
stayed maddeningly attached to her hips. She’d probably have
bruises there later from the grip, but she didn’t care, she just
wanted to come. Every thrust hit her G-spot, sending sensation
overload along her nerve endings, but it still wasn’t enough.

She moaned.

"You know what you need to do," he whispered
seductively in her ear. "Are you going to deny yourself?"

How could she do it? How could she make
herself come when he was inside her, watching her, feeling every
contraction, every jolt of her hips?

But her need for release was reaching an
agonizing level and the pleasure plateau she was on had become more
ordeal than delight. Desperate, she brought her hand between her
legs. The wet silkiness there felt so good and her body shook with
delight as she allowed herself to caress the swollen button that so
needed touching.

His arms came around her, one hand the
fingers tangling with hers between her legs and the other cupping
her right breast. "That’s right, Frankie. Oh, honey...you’re so wet
and soft. So perfect."

The combined effect of his words and the
sensation of their fingers together on her clitoris sent her over
the brink. She convulsed in one rapturous contraction after
another, her body bucking and bowing. Ty held her to him by a feat
of strength beyond her comprehension and yet the fingers doing
their slow glide up and down her pulsating sweet spot remained
gentle.

She yelled his name brokenly, letting him
control the way she touched herself because she couldn’t do
anything else as he pushed her to and beyond pleasure limits she’d
never even approached.

"That’s good." He bit her earlobe. "Real
good."

But it was too much. She tried to stop the
torment, her climax over, the aftershocks so intense she could not
bear them. "Stop...please...Ty...no more."

He stilled and pressed his hand over hers,
cupping her mound in a gesture that felt both possessive and
protective.

Tears of release and overwhelming sensual
joy trickled down her cheeks as she relaxed against him. He held
her body to his in total intimacy. The moment was profound and she
had no desire to talk. Her breathing eventually returned to a more
normal pattern, her body’s tension draining away, but he remained
hard inside her.

"Are you ready to taste me now?"

Incredibly, she was. "Yes."

He lifted her off of him and she turned to
face him. They were both kneeling.

He reached out and brushed her tears away.
"Are you all right?"

She nodded. "That was
amazing.
You are
amazing
, my love."

"Was it better than what you’ve had
before?"

She couldn’t believe he needed to ask. "I’ve
never known anything like it."

His eyes burned her with feral possession.
"Good."

"Will you stand up for me?" she asked.

He didn’t answer, but he crawled off the bed
and stood beside it, his big body seeming even taller and wider
than usual. She reached out with both hands and laid them against
his hair roughened pectorals. Man, he was built.

She leaned forward and kissed the very
center of his chest. "You’re a large man," she breathed against his
sweat slick skin.

She tugged his head down and started her
tasting with his mouth, kissing him. She tried to pour the love she
felt for him through her lips into his mouth, not ready to give
vent to the words in intimacy. She moved on to taste the scratchy
surface of his unshaven jaw.

He was salty and yummy and everything in
between. Her mouth slid to first one ear and then across his face
to the other, tasting as she went, before traveling down his
neck.

"You taste special...like nothing else on
earth."

He said nothing, but she hadn’t expected him
too. If it felt half as good for him as it had for her, he would be
incapable of speech.

She moved down his body, licking the salty
sweat from his chest and then gently biting the small, but hard
nubs of his male nipples. She went around to his back and continued
her tasting and touching journey, her breathing growing rapid again
as her fingers traced the well developed muscles of his back.

When she came around to the front and
dropped to her knees, he made a keening sound that sent shivers
between her legs.

She kissed his shaft, amazed at the size and
heat of it.

"Take me in your mouth," he demanded.

"
Yes
." She opened her lips wide and
took him inside.

His hips surged forward and he hit the back
of her throat. She tried not to gag, but he was big and she wasn’t
used to this. She pressed against his hips until he let her set the
depth and pace. She could taste herself on him and she’d never done
that before either. It was strange and yet very exciting...more
intimate than anything she’d ever known.

Pre-ejaculate slid across her tongue and its
salty sweetness surprised her too. She’d never liked giving head
with the one lover she’d had, but she liked this.

She used to think she hated the taste of a
man’s come, but she wouldn’t mind him exploding in her mouth.

Ty had other ideas. He pushed her head away
and lifted her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him
and then moaned brokenly as he surged inside of her swollen and
hyper sensitive passage.

He made love to her more gently this time,
his thrusts tender and measured, as if he was prolonging their
pleasure. She couldn’t believe his stamina, that not only hadn’t he
come yet, but that he could maintain the pace when another man
would have been passed out from exhaustion by now.

Not to mention the fact that he was holding
her up like she weighed no more than a toddler and at
five-foot-eight, she was no lightweight.

He stopped thrusting to step back and move
toward the bed. "I need to be on top of you."

"Yes." She didn’t know why, but that seemed
right.

Perfect, even.

He managed to get them both on the bed
without breaking their intimate connection as he came down on top
of her, his body completely surrounding her.

Their lovemaking took on a surreal property
as he coaxed her to more orgasms without taking his own pleasure.
When he finally came, she was a limp, sweaty bundle of pulsing
nerve endings under him.

He howled again, this time longer and louder
than the last.

The sound brought answering whimpers of
pleasure from her throat and she reached up to brush his throat
where the sound vibrated against her fingertips.

She loved this. Loved him, probably more
than he would ever know or accept.

Afterward, to her delight, they cuddled
together on the bed and slipped into an exhausted sleep.

He woke her three more times to make love,
once at sunrise.

She was so tired and sated that she allowed
him to do it all that time and found a peculiar pleasure in her
exhaustion based submission. He seemed to like it too, praising her
body and her response to him with words she’d never thought to hear
coming from his mouth.

She came awake later curled up under a
single quilt and toasty warm. The other side of the bed was empty,
but Ty’s scent and the fragrance from their lovemaking lingered. He
must have gotten up to stoke the fire in the stove. The bedroom was
certainly warm enough.

Her gaze flicked to the window. She couldn’t
believe he’d had it open last night. The storm was gone and the
position of the sun in the sky said it was past noon already. Not
surprising, considering how they’d spent the hours of the night and
early morning.

"Ty?" she called.

He came in through the bedroom door, his
cock semi-erect and she wondered if it ever shut off completely.
"Awake?"

She nodded, not sure what to say in the cold
light of day. Would he start going on about how last night had been
a mistake?

She didn’t know if she could stand it if he
did. She’d told him she wanted him even if it was only sex, but
what had happened last night and that morning had not been
restricted to the realm of the physical. She’d let him so deep into
her heart, she’d never get him out without losing part of her
soul.

His nudity and growing
arousal implied
mistake
wasn’t the word on the edge of his lips at the
moment, but even so, she waited in silence as he approached the
bed.

He didn’t give her a chance to talk once he
got there either, as he made it very clear what he wanted from her
and it wasn’t a post mortem. His touch was tender and gentle, but
every time she opened her mouth, he closed it with his lips or with
his finger pressed against her lips.

He didn’t want to talk.

She could deal with that. At least he wasn’t
saying goodbye.

She didn’t know how long he caressed her
body, but it felt like hours before he positioned himself over
her.

She winced with slight pain when he took
possession of her, but he didn’t see it because his mouth was busy
suckling a throbbing nipple. And she said nothing. She was enjoying
their intimacy too much, despite the soreness that proved she’d
never been made love to so completely and that it had been a very
long time since she’d made love at all.

This time they came together, her climax
feeding off his prolonged orgasm until she reached a level of
pleasure that sent her into semi-oblivion. She was aware only
peripherally of his final thrust and the howl she’d come to expect
on his completion.

As he settled against her afterward, the
words she’d tried so hard not to repeat the night before rasped out
of vocal chords strained by screams of ecstasy. "I love you,
Ty."

He went stiff and rolled off of her in an
unmistakable physical repudiation of the words. Her heart squeezed
and she turned her head, needing to see something in his face that
said he hadn’t meant the movement the way it had felt.

All she saw was stony coldness.

"Ty?"

"So you love me."

"Yes."

"So much that when I refused to have sex
with you yesterday you told me you didn’t want to be my friend
anymore."

"I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s not like you’re
thinking. I was at the end of my emotional tether with you, Ty. I
wasn’t trying to manipulate you."

"Weren’t you? Human women are good at
that."

"As opposed to what,
female
animals
?"
she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"As opposed to my kind," he said, a kind of
impotent rage throbbing in his voice.

"
Your kind?
What are you talking
about?"

He grimaced as if he hadn’t meant to say
what he had. "I’ll explain after you tell me if this so called love
of yours is going to lead to marriage."

She scooted into a sitting position,
dragging the quilt with her as a covering over nudity she wasn’t
comfortable sharing with him at the moment. The sunlight coming in
through the window put his features in harsh relief and there was
no comfort there for her hungry soul.

"It’s not
so-called
love, it’s
real, Ty." So real, his attitude was shredding her.

"Then you’ll marry me."

"Are you saying you
want
to marry me?" she
asked, unable to believe he was offering her dearest hope with such
emotionless detachment.

On top of that, after every thing he’d said
yesterday, the proposal – such that it was - didn’t make any
sense.

He sat up beside her and she had to stifle
and urge to reach out and touch the beautifully molded muscles of
his chest. He was so perfect.

He raised one knee and draped his arm over
it, his casual pose at odds with the strain emanating off of him.
"I don’t have a choice." His hand fisted in the sheet, his knuckles
white with tension. "According to pack law, we are already mated.
Until death do us part."

"
Pack law?
" She felt vaguely
disoriented, as if she’d stepped into one of those rooms at the
fair where everything seemed further away than it really was. "I
think you need to explain now. This isn’t adding up for
me."

"
First
tell me if you’re going to
marry me."

"Is that what you want?" she asked
again.

"I told you, I don’t have a choice."

Which was an answer she supposed. For some
reason, he believed he had to marry her, but he patently did not
want to.