Marked (4 page)

She’d tried to run only to have her dream shift to another
time and place.

This time she’d found herself in a sunny park. Empty swings
had swayed back and forth, a sandbox nearby occupied with rambunctious toddlers
and their doting parents. Jackson had been there as well, crouched a few feet
away, studying her. He’d seemed so out of place, like a lethal creature in a
safe haven parents took their children to play. When he started to stand, she’d
jolted awake, but from that moment forward her dreams had never been the same.

He’d chased her night after night, a sexual game of cat and
mouse. When he’d finally caught her—on the dance floor of the bar she’d fled,
ironically enough—she’d been a more than willing victim. She recalled dancing
in his arms, the rhythm of the music guiding their bodies. There was no fear.
It was as if she’d finally found someone who understood her. A man whose arms
felt like home. Afterward she craved sleep just to be close to him, to feel his
body pressed against hers.

“It was real, Chloe,” he said, the words rumbling from his
chest. “All of it.”

All of it.

The first few dreams were somewhat tame—transpiring in
places she refused to get totally down and dirty—but during the last one they’d
been alone in a bedroom. For the first time they’d removed their clothing,
stripping each other bare. Instead of feeling his muscles bulge beneath her
fingers, she’d finally
seen
them. He had been—and still remained—the
most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His large body was perfectly
proportioned, his skin tan and smooth. She’d gone down on him because she
couldn’t resist anymore. The temptation he’d presented had been too powerful to
shake. She’d never forget his taste. The way he stretched her lips as he glided
in and out of her mouth.

Her pussy spasmed at the memory, creating more wetness
between her legs.

Damn it.

Her panties were soaking wet, clinging to swollen vaginal
lips.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? It felt so good when
you sucked my cock. Your mouth was so hot, baby. I want to look you in the eyes
next time. I want to see how turned-on you are when you’re sucking me off.”

Holy mother.

In her dreams Jackson had loved to talk dirty. It had taken
a few dreams to become accustomed to his explicit sexual vocalizations but
she’d managed. A good thing since he apparently enjoyed doing the same thing in
reality.

“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, caving to her body’s
demands since she already had one foot in the door. “I haven’t been able to
stop thinking about it.”

Or about you and your promise to do the same to me.

After two nights of waiting for Jackson to appear in her
dreams, her curiosity about what it would be like had gotten the better of her.
She’d hesitantly touched herself in the shower, imagining it was Jackson’s
tongue caressing her clit, his mouth suckling on her flesh. Unfortunately she’d
stopped just shy of an orgasm, becoming uncomfortably aware of herself and what
she was doing. She’d stopped, feeling embarrassed and uncertain. One foray into
masturbation had taken her back several years, to another time and place.

At seventeen she’d had one sexual encounter—a rushed pairing
with an equally awkward boy from her English class. They’d parted ways
immediately after, avoiding each other if at all possible. She didn’t know if
he was embarrassed by his performance or didn’t want a repeat of hers. Either
way it didn’t matter. His touch had felt all wrong, even when she tried to
relax and enjoy what they were doing. From that moment forward she wasn’t
interested in sex or men.

Then Jackson had come along and changed everything.

Each wisp of his fingers against her sensitive skin made her
melt inside, creating tendrils of heat that built in her stomach. She lifted
her head, meeting his glowing eyes. A simple look from the man made her insides
puddle. There was nothing insecure or awkward about Jackson. He knew exactly
what he wanted and how he wanted it.

And she realized she wanted him to take it from her.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” His body brushed hers. She
felt the hard length of his erection prod her belly. “I’m going to take you to
my room and make you burn. I’m going to make you so hot you’ll think you’re
dying from the pleasure of it. This isn’t a dream. You’re going to get all of
me, Chloe.
All of me
.”

Oh boy.

She tried to argue when he cut her off, his fingers sliding
from her chin and latching on to the hair at her nape. He pulled her head back,
maintaining eye contact.

“We’ll sort the details out later. I’m tired of keeping my
hands to myself.”

Then he kissed her, lips soft but demanding, his tongue
lashing out to tease the cavern of her mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible
to swoon but swoon she did. Her knees buckled, the warmth from his body seeping
into hers. His hand drifted down and he palmed her ass, squeezing just hard
enough that she groaned. She’d forgotten what a master he was with his fingers,
how expertly he put them to use.

“So sweet and hot,” he growled into her mouth, yanking her
forward and rolling his hips, making the world crumble around her. “And all
fucking
mine
.”

He’d tried to do the right thing. Chloe deserved answers,
not the mindless fucking he had in mind. The beautiful female was confused. She
was scared. But she was also turned-on. Hell, she’d been turned-on since the
moment their skin had collided. Her scent called to him as no other’s had.
Tomorrow he could tell her everything she wanted to know. For now he had to
calm her fears and show her he would take care of her, regardless of the cost.

He basked in her taste—sweet as sugar and tempting as sin.
Her soft curves molded to him, her rounded ass the perfect size for his hand.
She whimpered as he squeezed the giving flesh, his fingers digging into her
jeans. Tugging her forward, he thrust his cock against her stomach and rolled
his hips. The beast in him wanted to yank down her pants, force her onto her
hands and knees and fuck her madly from behind.

Not yet.

She yelped when he lifted her and carried her in the
direction of the bedroom. He caught the sound in his mouth, growling in
pleasure as her surprise turned to hunger. Her lips parted and their tongues
danced—touching, teasing and drifting apart. He’d be lucky if he didn’t come
with his first taste of her, undone by the sweetness of her pussy as he lapped
at her slit. He could smell her—hot, honeyed and primed for the taking.

They entered his bedroom and he headed for the bed. He carefully
lowered her to the mattress, bringing his body over hers, forcing her knees
apart so he could slide his hips between her thighs. He could feel the heat of
her cunt through his jeans. The scent of her arousal tickled his nose. The
white glow from the moon slithered through the curtains and caressed her face,
the shadows on the bed a combination of black and gray. Her irises changed
color, shifting from grassy green to vibrant emerald in the light.

“I’m gonna eat you up,” he growled against her lips, nipping
gently. “I want to hear every little noise you make.”

She helped him tug off her jacket, violent as she ripped the
material from her torso. He felt her fingers shaking when their hands met, her
lithe body squirming beneath him. She was eager and ready as he was. When
they’d first started dreamsharing, she’d been nervous and inhibited during
their sexual interludes. Now—real, willing and in his arms—the minx was wild
and out of control.

Just the way I want her.

Somehow he managed to remove her sweater without tearing the
downy cotton, pulling it over her head along with an equally soft camisole. He
bit back a curse when he saw her bra, her hard pink nipples visible through
lace. After he removed the skimpy garment, he took a moment to appreciate the view.

Her flawless skin reflected the rays of the moon—pale, silky
and smooth. Her breasts were full and lush, nipples hard and waiting to be
touched. Before the night was over he intended to leave love bites all over her
creamy flesh, including one on the fleshy portion of her throat and shoulder
for the world to see.

My woman. My mate.

A surge of possessiveness seared through him. The wolf
wanted to come inside her and mark Chloe with its scent so that every werewolf
she encountered would know she was taken. A good thing, because the man wanted
the same thing. He couldn’t wait to feel the clasp of his mate’s pussy around
his cock, to finally learn just how hot and tight she’d be.

He popped the button to her jeans and started yanking on the
zipper when she stopped him, her voice husky. “Wait.”

Everything in him rebelled, the wolf fighting for dominance,
wanting to fuck its female until they were gasping for breath, bodies covered
in the smell of sex. Only the bitter smell of fear quieted the animal, allowing
the man to take control. He had to be tender with her.

Forcing the primal emotions aside, he struggled to put
Chloe’s needs first. He didn’t take his fingers away from the zipper but he
stopped the downward motion of his hand.

“Easy.” He attempted to calm her, peering into her eyes.

Her irises were even lighter now, the portion of her that
responded to his wolf riding the line. He understood her terror then, becoming
aware of the source of her anxiety. Along with the fragrance of fear was the
musky call of her arousal—her
wolf’s
arousal.

She didn’t understand—
couldn’t understand
—what she
was experiencing.

Lowering his head and brushing his nose against hers, he
softened his voice, gentling her with words. “You’re hurting, aren’t you, baby?
You want me so bad you ache with it. Don’t be afraid. I told you I’d take care
of you and I meant it. You’re safe with me. I give you my word.”

“This is wrong,” she moaned, arching her hips and pressing
her mound against his fingers. “I should make you stop.”

Like hell.
“How is this wrong?”

Against his better judgment, he lifted his hand and slid his
fingers beneath the lacy trim of her panties. As he’d known, her pussy was
drenched. He slid the pads of his fingers against the swollen crease, coating
them with her cream, gliding up and down her slit.

“Do you want me to go down on you, Chloe girl? You’re so
ready I can practically taste you.” When he slid his fingers free she cried
out. “I’m going to do everything you’ve dreamed about and then some.”

Since she was nervous about removing her clothing, he
decided to even the score. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled his T-shirt
over his head. The brisk air hit his skin, cooling the sensitized flesh. He
considered ordering Chloe to lick his chest, to tease him as she’d done in
their dreams, but he didn’t. Right now he had to keep stoking the fire. She
wanted him, she just didn’t know how much.

Not yet.

He brought his torso down so their stomachs collided—fair
skin clashing with tan, softness cushioning muscle. Her hesitancy vanished, her
small hands drifting up to clutch his arms. He couldn’t prevent the growl that
crept up his throat or the way he thrust his hips against her. The moment he’d
entered Chloe’s dreams she’d put her mark on him. He was useless to other
females, meaning he’d had to take care of his own needs. It had only been a
matter of time until they met but he’d never thought it would be like this.
With her sweet and soft in his arms, trusting him even though she wasn’t aware
of the eccentricities involved when mating with a shifter.

“I’m going to start here.” He pulled at her underwear and
jeans, intentionally skimming the back of his hand against her burning pussy.
“And work my way up.”

This time she didn’t protest, aiding him by lifting her
pelvis. The delicate curve of her stomach flexed, displaying the tender, toned
muscles of her abdomen. After he slid off her shoes and socks, he removed her
jeans. She was as lean as he remembered, her shape that of a female werewolf,
although less muscular than most—lithe and strong, trim and curved in all the
right places.

His gaze rested on her sex, his wolf howling in pleasure at
the sight of trimmed blonde curls. The lips of her cunt were swollen and pink.
Her flesh glistened in the light coming through the window, her hard clit
pushing free of its hood.

His fangs lengthened, his heart drumming in his chest. He
was going to leave his imprint all over her, covering her with his scent,
marking her soft skin with his teeth. She was seductive and inviting, waiting
for him to make the next move. He paused over her mound, blowing softly against
her weeping flesh.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned and clutched the comforter.
“Please.”

“I won’t.” His growl filled the room, the wolf eager to
claim its mate. He lowered his head, guided by his nose and the fragrance of
her cunt. “I’m going to please you all night long. And this time, you
won’t
be
dreaming.”

On some level Chloe knew what she was doing was
inappropriate. She was in the bed of a stranger—someone she only knew from her
dreams. She understood that, had even contemplated it when her head cleared and
she tried to rationalize what she was experiencing. But she couldn’t stop.

God help her. She didn’t want
him
to stop.

“Jackson,” she whispered, making sure he was real and not a
figment of her imagination. Her body was on fire, her nipples and pussy more
sensitive than they’d ever been in her life. Even the chilled temperature of
the room felt painful brushing against her naked skin.

“Hold on, baby.”

His breath caressed her skin, whispering over the lips of
her sex. Before she could respond his hot, wet tongue glided along her seam.
One long, deliberate lick parted the lips of her vagina. Fiery wisps followed
his touch, leaving an impression behind. She arched her back, fisting the
blanket beneath her hands, crying out at the amazing sensation.