Conner's Wolf (4 page)

He felt her smile against his skin, followed by the caress of her tongue and heat of her breath when she released his nipple to say, “Wondering if I had the same problem?”

A howl of protest came from his dick when she reversed directions, kissing upward instead of continuing downward. She rose to straddle him and he found intense pleasure in the sight of her above him, her face and breasts, the flat belly and small triangle of pubic hair, the rich natural caramel of her thighs against his sun-darkened skin.

A rush of heated blood surged into his cock. The press of her parted cunt lips to it silenced its scream for her mouth, replacing it with the desperate need to feel her tight channel.

He moaned when she reached down, capturing his cock and guiding it to her opening. His hips jerked up, his body hers to command. He had no problem with her taking the dominant position, not when he’d dreamed of her riding him like this, taking all of him in a slow slide to pleasure unlike anything he’d ever experienced with another woman.

He covered her breasts with his hands, loving the way she gave him some of her weight, matched her strength to his, her eyes partially closed and her back arching, making him think of a cat purring with satisfaction, stirring him, challenging him to add to her pleasure.

He captured her nipples, loving their size and darkness, the way they hardened so readily, leaving no doubt about his effect on her. He squeezed and tugged, twisted, his actions timed to her up-and-down slide on his shaft.

She rewarded him by moving faster, with the clamp and release of her channel. By changing the angle so her clit struck him. And he countered, thrusting hard and deep as his fingers tightened, blending pleasure with pain.

“Come for me, baby.”

She obeyed, crying out in release, the grip of her sheath demanding the same of him. He came, the force and length of it leaving his head humming in a buzz of blissful exhaustion and masculine satisfaction.

He smiled at the feel of her draped along his length like a hot blanket. Wrapping his arms around her to keep her in place, he said, “We talk tomorrow.”

Maybe
, Khemirra thought.

Chapter Three

Khemirra woke late and knew it was early afternoon by the quality of light and air coming in through the open window. She was still partially draped over Conner, his skin warm against hers, his scent more intoxicating today than it had been yesterday.

She wanted to rub every inch of her body against him, to mark herself with him, and in turn, coat every inch of him with her scent. The wolf in her wanted a mate, a pack in this human world the woman insisted on living in. Khemirra wasn’t averse to the idea of a husband and children, but the stakes were made higher because regardless of form, Weres mated for life.

Conner’s relaxed features and deep, easy breathing told her he was asleep despite the erection pressed to her belly. Edging away from him, so she could think without the distraction of feeling his skin against hers, she wrestled with conscience, instinct battling rational thought.

She felt safe with him, couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept so soundly. She believed he might be able to help her deal with Armand Scholes, if not directly then indirectly, by using contacts and resources she had no access to. But involving Conner would put him at risk in ways neither of them could predict. She couldn’t rule out the possibility a witch or psychic was being used to track her, or worse, a mage with ties to the one she’d killed.

A homicide cop with a bias against anything defying rational explanation was a bad choice. The day they’d met in the park to talk about Patrick Dean’s murder, Conner’s scent had changed, aggravation edging its way into his voice when he said
psychic
. She doubted he was even aware of it, though she suspected if asked he wouldn’t blunt his opinion of things supernatural. In her experience, people rarely liked to be jerked out of their comfort zone when it came to their beliefs and the things they
knew
were true.

I’m a werewolf, Conner. Oh, and by the way, I shifted because a charm forced me to and then I killed the mage who’d created it. That’s why I’m running.

Oh yeah, that would go over well.

She glanced toward the window. The night was still hours away but she could already feel the pull of the moon. She’d planned to wake at dawn, write, polish an article and send it off, then hit the road so she’d be in the mountains in time to hide the car and shift.

She needed to leave soon. Looking at Conner, she thought it’d be better for him—so much safer—if she slipped out and away.

And if he followed her? She frowned, wishing she’d asked him exactly how he’d managed to catch up to her, because if
he
could then maybe Scholes was using the same approach. Too late now. And at some point Conner would have to give up his pursuit and go back to work.

She eased off the bed, careful not to wake him. An ache spread through her, widening and deepening with each step she took, turning into the wolf’s howl by the time she reached the clothes she’d discarded next to the door.

Uncertainty crept in at the sight of the engaged security chain. The only possible reason for sleeping through Conner’s getting out of bed and moving around the motel room was because the wolf trusted him completely. It gave her pause, making her wonder if she was wrong to leave him.

Bonded pairs weren’t completely governed by the full moon. The forced change of its call in childhood was a way of integrating wolf and human personality, while in adulthood it came because of the need to find a mate.

She shook the misgiving off and picked up her jeans. Out of habit she touched the pocket containing her keys.

Panic hit at finding them gone, a knee-jerk response rather than true fear. She kept a spare taped under the car.

The sound of jingling sent a whole different type of panic scrambling along her nerve endings.

Her focus shifted to a pissed-off-looking Conner. Damn if he wasn’t gorgeous wearing nothing but a scowl. She was torn between the wolf’s desire to sidle up to him and lick his lips in a show of submission and appeasement, and the woman’s to run and let him catch her for some make-up sex.

“Missing these?” he asked, the growl in his voice one hundred percent alpha male.

He rose from the bed and stalked toward her, each step tightening her nipples and the coil of heat that had taken up residence in her belly. She shivered when he reached her, her fear entirely erotic in nature.

He trapped her against the door as he had the night before, leaned in so their faces were inches apart. “Don’t count on the spare key being in its hiding place.”

Surprise ripped through her. He couldn’t have outmaneuvered her so thoroughly without the wolf being complicit in keeping her human consciousness submerged in sleep. The knowledge weakened her resolve to leave him, but despite the heat between them, he wasn’t her mate.

Yet
, the wolf whined, but because he wasn’t, and that deep bond between them didn’t exist, the urge to shift form would grow stronger the closer they got to moonrise. There would be no denying it at nightfall.

“I have to get to the mountains, Conner,” she said, hearing the desperation in her voice where she’d intended firmness. “That’s my best shot at staying safe.”

Conner’s pissed quotient edged upward another couple of degrees. His lips pulled back in a tiny snarl. “Are you saying I can’t protect you?”

“I’m saying I need to be in the mountains before dark and I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you because of me.”

He’d been spoiling for a fight from the instant she slipped out of bed and it became obvious she intended to bolt. Her answer mollified him, batting temper aside and clearing his mind until she dropped the jeans and placed her palms against his chest in an almost submissive pose, then the little head tried to do all the thinking.

His cock pulled away from his body far enough for the tip to touch her belly in a wet caress to her smooth skin. Goddamn. In a minute he was going to lift her and take her against the back of the door.

Stamina had never been a problem for him. But a couple rounds with Khemirra and he probably wouldn’t be able to summon enough strength to get to his feet, much less prevent her from leaving.

“You need to get to the mountains, fine. My parents have a cabin and I’ve got a friend between here and there. He’s ex-military with plenty of law enforcement ties. We leave your car with him, stashed in his garage so it can’t be used to track you. If someone shows up looking for you, he can take care of himself and gather information, enough to start applying pressure to whoever is causing you problems. I’ll even wait until we get to the cabin before hearing the answers you promised me.”

He pulled her against him, figuring to use every means possible to persuade her to say yes, though the touch of her breasts to his chest and her belly along the length of his cock just about chased every thought out of his head.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he said, tightening his hold on her, pleasure pouring into him when she leaned forward as he leaned down, her mouth eagerly meeting his, her tongue quick to rub and twine with his.

Heated need pooled in his testicles and pulsed through his cock as the kiss deepened. Her hands moved downward on his back, fingernails scraping and sending fire ahead of them, his buttocks clenching in an effort to keep from fucking against her.

When she attempted to take his cock in hand, he denied her by capturing first one wrist and then the other, knowing he couldn’t allow her to touch him like that. A couple of strokes and he’d be coming on her abdomen like a porn star, a comparison that should have made him laugh. Instead it made him hunger to claim her in every way a man could claim his woman, to put up huge no trespassing signs with bites and kisses and the smell of his come. Son of a bitch, when had he gotten so primitive?

He needed her agreement before he gave in to the lust. “Say yes to my plan, Khemirra. Give me a chance to help you. You can’t keep running forever, not if you want to keep writing. Anyone looking for you will recognize your style.”

For good measure he nuzzled her neck. Took the skin between his teeth in a little love bite she responded to with a moan and the rub of her clit to his cock, naked hot skin against naked hot skin.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. “Say yes.”

Khemirra wanted to but couldn’t without warning Conner his plan might not reduce the risk. She didn’t know what Scholes would do if he caught up to her while they were together.

“Hiding the car might not be enough. There’s a chance a psychic or witch is being used to find me. Maybe even a mage.”

She felt the instant tension in Conner, accompanied by a change in scent. Disbelief. Denial. Rejection. But not the cooling of desire. His cock remained hard and thick against her belly, proof against that.

“You’re not going to scare me away by parading out the weird, Khemirra.”

Her lips pulled back, the woman baring her teeth at his attitude. The wolf giving a show of submission in a pleading bid for acceptance.

He covered her mouth with his before she could come up with a rebuttal, the thrust of his tongue making her channel clamp with painful need. She let the argument go, accepting the fact that neither she nor the wolf were ready to be without him.

As if sensing her capitulation, he said, “You’ll stay at the cabin with me?”

“Yes. I want a shower first.”

“That works for me,” he said, releasing one of her wrists, but not the other until after he’d led her into the bathroom and then beneath the heated spray of water.

It works for me too
, she thought as his lathered hands glided over her flesh.

The wolf loved the petting stokes, the admiration telegraphed by scent and sight and touch. The woman reveled in features made taut by desire, by an expression leaving no doubt as to how much he liked what he saw.

He crouched in front of her, smoothing his hands down one leg and then up the other, eyes following the movement before giving all of his attention to her cunt. She spread her legs, widening her stance, anticipation building with the proximity of his mouth to her clit and opening.

“You want my mouth on you, baby?”

She shivered, loving the way he could make her feel wicked and precious at the same time. “You know I do.”

Wet, his hair was a dark, dark blond. She tangled her fingers in it, urging him to give her what his look and his voice promised.

Pure bliss hit her when he did. She moaned with the hot press of his lips to her lower ones, his tongue delivering ecstasy with each lick and swirl and thrust as his hands gripped her buttocks and held her in place.

She wouldn’t have escaped even if she could, even if the tight confines of the tiny shower stall would have allowed it. She craved the feel of his mouth on her cunt and clit too much, loved the sounds he made as he ate her, hungry and satisfied at the same time.

Her hips jerked when he captured her clit. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as she gave herself over to him.

He rubbed his tongue against the tiny head and along the underside. Sucked, shrinking her world to the pull of his lips, to the need building inside her.

His name became a litany. Her fingers tight in his hair, holding him to her, and then holding her upright until desire burst, an orgasm exploding in white-hot sensation and a shattering weakness that had her sinking into a crouch.

“Looks like you need resuscitating,” Conner said, making her smile with his play on their exchange the night before. “Good thing I’m here for some mouth-to-mouth.”

“Even if you’re the cause of my collapse?”

“Even if,” he said, touching his lips to hers.

Tasting herself on him was decadent, darkly carnal. It tightened her nipples so they ached for the punishment his fingers could deliver, for the sweet pleasure of his mouth.

She touched them, pleasured herself, swallowing the sound of his desire. Her hands dropping to his open thighs when the kiss ended, her focus shifting with them, to a cock darkened with need, the foreskin retracted to leave the head exposed, the small slit weeping arousal as if crying for her.

She slid her palms along his inner thighs, her sense of feminine power deepening at the way his muscles firmed beneath them and his cock pulled farther away from his body, as if it would hurry to her had it not been attached. Like the rest of him, his erection resonated strength and the heavy globes of his testicles prowess, the wolf seeing both as indicators of a worthy mate.

Don’t go there
, the rational part of her mind warned. But it was impossible to stop channeling the wolf this close to a full moon.