McQuade: The Lone Wolf Takes A Mate (10 page)

“Yes.” She rubbed herself
against his cock and he groaned.

“Do you underst
and that I have nothing to give you? That I’ll never see you again once this night is finished and I walk out that door?”

She didn’t want to think about afterwards.
“Yes, McQuade, I understand all of it.”

His nostrils flared and some
of his iron control slipped. “I won’t…If you want to stop, Rose, it has to be now. If we go any further, I won’t be able to stop.”

Licking her lips, she took
a leap of faith. Her body shook with a bone-deep desire. A desire so strong she knew she’d never feel it again. Not with anyone else. “I don’t want to stop.”

McQuade tried once more. The wolf just wanted him to shut up and take her, but the man had to be sure. The two were at odds—again. He didn’t understand what Rose was doing to him.
He’d never felt this torn. “I’m a shifter, Rose, and shifters have a ferocious appetite,” he warned, his voice raw and husky.

“Yay
, me,” she whispered, going up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, letting her curves press into his hardness.

The force and intimac
y of her body aligning with his brought a hungry growl. His arms came around her, almost crushing her with his strength. When he nipped at her lip, she nipped him back. When he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, she drew him deeper.

She could feel his desire sharpening, swiftly taking him toward the point of no return—just as he’d warned. But there was something more, almost a palpable anger as
though he was inwardly fighting his attraction to her. She could still feel that thin layer of steely control holding him in check.

She wanted to rip away the
barrier. She wanted to strip him raw—to lay his emotions as bare as hers.

He picked her up as easily as he’d pick up a child. He didn’t ask directions to her bedroom.
He didn’t have to. His steps were sure and determined as he carried her effortlessly down the short hallway and into her room. He placed her on the edge of the bed, looking directly into her eyes. “Stay.”

One of her eyebrows rose at his
terse command, but she forgave him as he stepped back and began to strip out of his clothing. She released her breath slowly, her eyes wide open so she wouldn’t miss a moment of what was happening.

With one quick
jerk, he yanked the dark T-shirt over his head. His jeans were off so fast she wasn’t sure she’d seen him remove them. She’d wanted him naked and, suddenly, he was. She blinked, hardly daring to believe the dark-skinned, breathtaking sculpture before her was a living, breathing man who was about to make love with her. The corrugated flesh over his ribs and stomach rippled like a washboard with each small movement. The hair covering his wide chest was dark, tapering in a perfect line down to his groin.

Holy
…shit.

He w
as huge. Rose’s pussy ached just imagining him pushing inside her. She clenched her thighs as her juices flowed. “McQuade?”

Her soft plea drove McQuade
over the edge. He’d never been so hard and aching in his life. And that was saying something considering the many years he’d survived. With a move born out of his need more than skill or finesse, he had her on her back in the big bed, his claws ripping the pretty bottoms away from her lush thighs. Spreading her legs, he let his hungry gaze travel down her body. When she tried to hide herself from his seeking eyes, he growled. “No.”

“McQuade, I’m…”

“Incredibly beautiful, Rose. And so damned ripe. You can’t hide from me, baby. I won’t allow it.”

He
covered her with his body, the weight of him making her cry out with pleasure. She arched against him. Her skin felt too tight and too hot. The need for this man overwhelmed her. “Please.”

His hand moved down her body and for once she didn’t care that a man was feeling all the swells and dips
of her body. What he was doing to her proved much more flattering and reassuring than any words any man could ever speak to her. She knew where his hand was going because, like a flame, it scorched a path down her body. They both groaned when his hand cupped her mound.

“You are so wet, Rose. So. Damn. W
et.” His eyes captured hers, holding her captive in the sensual fog of their own creation. Without further preamble, his fingers plunged inside her. She cried out, her hips jerking upward toward his marauding fingers.

“That’s it
, baby. Take it like a good girl.” His voice was a growl in her ear as he pressed her against the mattress, holding her still as he continued to work his fingers in and out of her pussy. “I can’t wait to have my dick there.”

It was so new. So
unlike anything she could ever have imagined. She had never felt such heat. Such fire. At his graphic words, she exploded as desire burst inside her. “McQuade!” Her hips moved frantically as she rode the sensual waves created by his strong fingers.

“That’s it,” he continued to
ream her pussy with his fingers, his thumb finding her clit and stroking it slowly, helping to bring her down from her high. He met her eyes as her lids fluttered open. “You are so beautiful when you come for me, Rose. I want to see it again.”

Rose thought
surely he would take his pleasure then and she’d have no complaints. He had taken her to just this side of heaven. When he simply continued to touch her, his capable hands and lips finding all the right spots, she felt the fire build again. “McQuade?”

“
Mmm hmm.” He lowered his head and licked at her nipples, all the while strumming her clit, pumping his fingers inside. “You were such a good girl to come all over my fingers. Now I want you to come all over my tongue.”

He eased down her body, placing light,
lingering kisses on the underside of her breasts, along her ribs, then across the curve of her stomach. It took her a moment to realize what he had said and what he was about to do. “But you can’t…”

She tugged a
handful of his dark hair, stopping his descent. He looked up at her, his dark chocolate eyes almost pure gold, and his smile was savage. “Oh, believe me honey, I can. And I am. My wolf wants to taste you. I’m going to eat your incredibly juicy pussy until you explode and then I’m going to lick you clean.”

Her
fingers contracted in his hair. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever heard, drawing vivid mental pictures in her mind.

I
gnoring the bite of her fingers in his hair, he continued his downward path, exploring, touching, and tormenting every inch of her until he reached the apex of her thighs. With the lightest of pressure, he tongued her, smiling at the groan that tore from her throat. His animal responded, lapping at her center with long, even strokes.

The pressure inside of her continued to build
, increasing with every touch, every caress, every damn stroke of his tongue up the center of her body. When his teeth bit lightly into her clit, she screamed, her climax rocking through her. Before she could catch her breath, he was stroking her again.

“One more time
,” he growled at the intimate opening of her body, his hot breath fanning across the wet surface. “I need you good and wet. Weeping for me.”

He drove her higher, harder,
taking her to the very ends of the earth and back. All she could do was feel, and sweet hell, she was feeling everything. The rough edges of his tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth. He pushed one thick finger inside, then another, and another. The width of his fingers stretched her, prepared her.

With his fingers inside her, his mouth moved to the pleasure button Rose hadn’t known could work
quite so well. By herself it took what seemed like forever to reach satisfaction. With McQuade, just the touch of his lips could send her over the edge. And that’s where she found herself a third time. Drowning in incredible sensation, all hot and sweaty and out of control. And he hadn’t even entered her yet. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. She felt as if she’d run a marathon. She didn’t know if she could survive a fourth climax.

CHAPTER SIX

McQuade fought to control his animal, something he’d never had to do quite so forcefully before. All of his previous conquests had been nothing more than a release for the man—but not for the wolf. This time, with this woman, his wolf was very engaged in what was happening. He was hungry for this woman and he wanted to take control from the man. He wanted to mark this woman. To make her his. With every ouch of his waning strength, McQuade fought the wolf, caged him in, making the animal crazy with need.

He watched Rose’s eyes close. Her neck had arched back and she
had surrendered herself to his touch, to his control, with a guileless greed that tightened something in his chest. With animal-like grace, he swept his body up and over hers, reveling in the harsh intake of her breath. Taking her mouth, he thrust his tongue inside without finesse. He wanted her to taste her own desire, to share it with him.

His hand slid down her body, his long fingers tangling once again
in the brown curls covering her mound. “So wet, baby,” he whispered, nipping her neck lightly. “I’m going to fuck you now, Rose. I can’t wait any longer.”

He pulled her leg up and she opened for him immediately. His cock
nudged her honeyed entrance. She was so tight. Had she ever had a lover? The animal in him howled at the thought of her with another man. He’d prepared her as much as he could, hoping her desire wouldn’t wane when it came time for the actual claiming.

P
ressing forward he shuddered as the head of his cock surged between her slick walls. She was hot. So damn hot. He felt her stiffen as he continued to push forward, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Relax baby,” he whispered hoarsely, holding on to his control by a thin thread. His arms trembled as he held himself still above her. What he wanted to do was ram his dick into her slick hole and fuck her until neither of them could walk. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

When he felt some of the tension leave her body, h
e pushed forward slowly, gritting his teeth with the effort, fighting his own impulses, his own maniac need. His wolf howled inside him. She was hot, moist heat, burning his throbbing cock as he took her. She was killing him. Absolutely killing him—and he was defenseless against it. How long could he contain his wolf?

When he was fully seated inside her tight sheath, he
ran his tongue around the shell of her ear. “I’m fucking you, little Rose. Do you feel me inside you? You’re taking me. You’re taking every inch of my big, hard cock up that sweet little pussy of yours.”

“I want more.”
Her knees came up of their own violation, spreading her even further and he felt her relax, the last of her tension seeping away.

He sank into her as deep
ly as he could go, groaning anew as her tight walls closed around him. Her soft plea had released the wolf.

He arched his hips back and thrust into her again. Her gasp of
pleasure overrode his reason. His neck corded and his dick swelled and suddenly the pace was out of his control.  He rammed into her again and again, his movements hard and urgent. She cried out as he took her, begging for more. His wolf wanted release as badly as the man, both now merging together as they took her. He bared his teeth, his head moving forward without conscious thought. At the last minute, the man seized control and he buried his head in her shoulder instead of his teeth in her neck as he shuddered and shuddered against her body, releasing his seed deep inside of her.

McQuade barely had the strength to turn on his side so he wouldn’t hurt her as he collapsed. He kept himself buried inside
her, his cock still twitching with mini aftershocks of his prolific climax. It had shattered him and he hated the feeling. This time with Rose would stand out forever his mind and he resented the bonds those memories created. When she went to move away, his wolf growled and pulled her closer. “Sleep,” he managed to whisper. “Sleep.”

*****

Rose opened her eyes, then shut them quickly. Taking a deep breath, she opened them again. Yep, he was still there. It hadn’t been a dream after all.

McQuade lay beside her
, his large frame making the queen-size bed seem small. His arms were folded behind his head in a calendar-worthy pose. Her gaze fell to his chest. Bare and bronzed, with just enough hair to lose her fingers in. In the light of morning, her doubts tried to creep back. Maybe she shouldn’t have spent the night with him. Maybe she shouldn’t have let him take her innocence. There were a lot of maybes. But despite all of them, he had provided Rose with something she desperately needed. A boost to her self-confidence. She had no illusions. She knew for men, sex was simply sex. The quenching of a biological need. It was women who looked at it through the proverbial rose-colored glasses. McQuade may have taken hers off and crushed them beneath his foot, but for one night, he had wanted her. Rose Spencer.

She watching
the pounding of the pulse in his neck and had a sudden uncontrollable urge to kiss him there, to nip him as he’d done her. Strange, erotic sensations danced in her blood as if something was calling to her.

She was just being fanciful. After such a magical night, how could she not be?

She lifted her gaze and met his, unaware of the hunger blooming in her large, round eyes. He swore softly.

“Don’t go there, Rose.” His voice was harsh and
guttural.

The both knew what he’d seen in her eyes. She wanted a morning after. A happily-ever-after.

She wanted to ask him why not. He’d made love to her last night as if he’d never be able to stop. Again and again. Hard and fast. So slow and sweet she’d cried and he’d shuddered uncontrollably in her arms. Was one night all he really wanted from her? The thought hurt but she refused to let him see.

His eyes, if pos
sible, darkened even more. His gaze fell to her bare breasts and Rose reveled in the look on his face, in the change of his suddenly uneven breathing. He wanted her. He wanted her as a man wants a woman. Physically. Sexually. With passion.

No man had ever looked at her like that before.

And she liked it.

A lot.

She was devastated when he rose from the bed, but determined not to let it show. He’d been completely honest with her. Offering no sweet lies or even sweeter promises. He’d given her more than she’d ever thought to have with him.

One glorious
, life-altering, mind-blowing night of the most incredible sex. Ever.

She
watched the flex of muscles in his tight behind. His clothes—the jeans and t-shirt he’d stripped off while she’d watched—were draped over the back of the chair. He threw them on with equal ease then sat down to pull on his boots. The scene seemed so normal to Rose, as if she was watching him prepare to leave for the day instead of walking out of her life forever. Once he left, the fantasy would end. He would not return. This would be the last time she saw the beautiful shifter.

S
he scooted up in the bed, her back against the headboard with the sheet tucked beneath her arms. Without a word, he came and sat down beside her. Looking seriously intent, he threaded his fingers through her hair—hair she was sure was standing on end and tangled beyond repair—as if he couldn’t help touching her.

“My scent should stay on you for a
few more days. If anyone bothers you, you still have my number.”

A crack formed in Rose’s heart
, letting her old insecurities sneak through. “Is that why you…?”

“Why I fucked you
last night?” His voice was harsh, angry, and Rose flinched.  He didn’t answer. He tilted her head back and looked at her as if memorizing her features. “My seed marks you the same as my bite. You’ll be safe for a while longer.”

Rose wanted to scream at him, to tell him she didn’t like being a mercy fuck. But she couldn’t.
Wouldn’t. She shielded her heart and her feelings with her pride. No matter what his reasons, he’d given her a night she would never forget. “Is this where I say thank you?”

His lips twitched as if he mig
ht smile, but he didn’t. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he rose from the bed and walked out of the bedroom. She heard the squeak of the door then the click of the lock as he left the apartment. If he’d waited a moment longer, her tears would have drowned out the sound of his departure.

*****

Why couldn’t he forget her? She was only a woman. And he’d had plenty of women. Women of all sizes and shapes. She’d been nothing more than a useful fuck. Served a need. Scratched the itch.

A
nd he was a lying, cold-hearted bastard. He’d rescued Rose from a potentially dangerous situation then took untold advantage. He’d sensed her loneliness, her need to connect, to matter to someone. When he’d smelled her desire, he’d used all of that to his advantage in order to taste her, take her.

Mate her.

Only he hadn’t.

The wolf had
stopped. Or more accurately, the wolf had wanted to mark her and the man had stopped the beast.

Barely.

Once he’d tasted her, licked the juices from her body, he’d been in a sexual frenzy, ready to make her his. Only at the last second had he found enough strength–and common sense–not to sink his teeth into her creamy white shoulder as he emptied his cock inside her sweet pussy.

Rose Spencer
was not his mate.

So why had he stood outside her apartment
building in the early hours of the morning, for the last two days, hiding in the alley like a damn cat, waiting on her to leave for work. The men on the garbage truck had given him a curious stare but had otherwise left him alone. When she’d finally emerged and walked down the rickety stairs, he’d almost–almost–stepped out of the shadows and offered her another ride on his bike.

Yeah
, McQuade
,
his wolf snickered, like you just wanted to be a Good Samaritan.
The animal poked at the man, knowing they both wanted Rose to straddle something else entirely. During their night together, he’d barely touched the surface of what he wanted to do with her, to her.

It was a night he couldn’t forget.

“Are you with me, McQuade?”

Briggs’ voice broke through the
vivid image of Rose riding his cock. Being inside of her had been the sweetest heaven. Knowing he couldn’t have her again was pure hell.

He grunted, drawing a wicked grin from his partner.

McQuade was not a believer in random chance or fickle fate. He believed a person made their own future by the choices they made. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling something had been at work in that particular bar on that particular night. Almost as if they’d been destined to meet.

Rose. Was. Not. His. Mate.

No matter how good the sex had been.

No matter that it had been the best sex of his life.

That night he’d felt her trust as she’d relaxed, allowing him to sink inside her. He knew she’d been innocent. He hadn’t felt a barrier, but he’d known in the depths of his soul he’d been the first. The first to surge…

D
eep…
Inside… her
.

Why did his mind persist in going
there
?

To the feel of her strangling the swollen head of his cock. The unbelievable feeling of power as he’d taken her, breached the innocence he’d instinctively sensed.

And why did he want to be there again—deep inside Rose’s perfect little pussy. Damn she’d felt hot. And wet. And tight. So damned tight.

He shifted
in an effort to ease the strain in his jeans. What the hell was she doing with a queen size bed? Now that he’d taken her innocence was she going to go out partying with her sister and invite strange men back to her apartment. His wolf growled at the thought of her with another man.

Which was at total odds with his past behav
ior. He picked up women who wouldn’t demand a commitment, who only wanted a few hours of fun and games. He didn’t want anyone stirring up any protective feelings. He didn’t want anyone waking his damn wolf.

And he definitely didn’t want a mate.

Well too late for that asshole
, the annoying beast laughed in his head. The animal was awake and ready to claim his mate.

“Come on,
man,” Briggs slapped his back. “You need a good long run to sort out your woman trouble.”

For once McQuade didn’t argue with his friend. He did need to sort out his feeling for Rose
. One way or the other.

Alone.

*****

He
’d taken off in the opposite direction once Briggs had decided which side of the boundary he wanted to patrol. Usually he enjoyed doing the patrol with his friend, catching up on the week’s happenings, discussing women and ribbing his friend about his lack of prowess with the opposite sex. Which was funny since women were drawn to Briggs like a moth to a flame. Somehow, they didn’t make it past one night.

At least
some of McQuade’s relationships had lasted longer.

Except with Rose.