Dark Wolf Running (Bloodrunners) Read online

Page 13


  She shook her head, no idea what to make of him. He seemed too freaking good to be true. “You’re... I don’t understand you.”

  “Trust me,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I don’t understand me, either. If I had any brains at all, I’d be doing everything I could to talk you into wanting more right this second so that I could strip you out of those little sweats and bury myself so deep you could feel me here,” he growled, pressing his big hand over her belly.

  Clenching her teeth, Elise tried to deal with the need twisting through her that was unlike anything she’d ever known. Tried to beat it down into something that she could swallow and hide. That she could ignore, pretending it didn’t exist, since she wasn’t ready for what he wanted. But it was impossible. Damn it, she needed him. Needed him to make it right!

  “Wyatt, p-please.” Her voice quivered, face tingly and hot. “I’m not ready for that, but please give me...something. Anything. Don’t make me leave your bed feeling like this.”

  “Christ, El. I couldn’t ever make you leave my bed,” he admitted in a guttural rasp, kissing his way down the side of her face as he moved the hand on her belly in firm, soothing circles. “I want you here too badly.”

  Oh, God. In that moment, she was nothing but sensation, pulsing in tender, sensitive places—her eyelids, throat, the insides of her wrists, behind her knees. The pleasure of his touch had invaded every part of her, coursing through her system like an addictive force, overtaking her, overwhelming her.

  “Tell me what else you want,” she whispered, digging her nails into his powerful shoulders, undone by the feel of his tight skin stretched over heavy muscle. By his power. His heat. “I love the sound of your voice.”

  Nuzzling her ear with his nose, he said, “You want to hear what I want to do to you?”

  Her answer came on a soft, shivering moan. “Yes.”

  “All right. But I get to touch you while I’m talking. Okay?”

  She nodded, so excited she couldn’t stay still, her body thrumming with need.

  He lifted his head, locking her in a gaze that was so heated she felt burned. “I need the words, El.”

  “Yes. Okay,” she breathed out, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. “You c-can touch me.”

  “Thank God,” he muttered, nipping her chin. He kissed his way down the front of her trembling throat as he pushed her to her back, then braced himself over her on his hands and knees. Lying against the Wyatt-scented bedding, she shivered as his lips coasted over her collarbone, traveling lower, until he took the neckline of her tank top in his teeth. Then he tugged it down, shifting his hold, until he’d managed to get it caught under her breasts.

  “Jesus. You’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, staring down at her bra-covered breasts as if he wanted to eat her alive. Her bra was pale cream lace, almost the same color as her skin, the pink of her nipples easy to see through the intricate pattern—but thankfully not her scars. She blinked, panting, as she watched him lower his dark head and flick his tongue against one lace-covered tip, licking it four more times before moving to the other one. She watched, transfixed, wanting to see him lick that nipple, too. But he flicked his sharp, searing gaze up to hers as he took the sensitive peak in his mouth instead. She gasped at the wet, delicious heat of his mouth surrounding her—then cried out as he started to suck on her...hard. Intense, piercing shards of pleasure spread out from the tip of her breast, coursing through her system, making her moan and writhe. He growled low in his throat, moving back to the nipple he’d first licked and sucked at it even harder, and she could feel that rough animal sound vibrating against her, her cries ratcheting up a notch, throaty and raw.

  “That’s it, El.” His breathing was hard and loud, each ragged pant blowing against her tingling nipple. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Let me know how much you like it.”

  “I love it!” she practically shouted, lifting her hands and shoving her fingers into his silky hair, holding him to her tighter as she arched up, pressing her breast against his gorgeous face. “Love it, love it, love it,” she chanted. “God, Wyatt, I am so freaking in love with your mouth!”

  She could feel him smile against her breast but was feeling too incredible to be embarrassed. “That’s good, baby. Because I want every part of you in it. These sweet little nipples—they’re like pieces of candy on my tongue. I can’t get enough of them.” He went back to her other breast, sucking and licking through the lace, nipping at the softly pulsing peak, then rested his forehead between the quivering mounds, his breathing jagged as he gripped her sides in his big hands, his thumbs stroking against her ribs.

  “Wyatt?” she whispered, when a hard shudder wracked his powerful frame. “You okay?”

  He lifted his head, and for the first time since she’d met him, she could see the primal hunger of his wolf in his eyes, burning in that glittering midnight-black. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and said, “I mean it, El. Every part of you. In. My. Mouth.”

  Her eyes went wide, then even wider when she heard herself ask, “What part do you want the most?”

  She could feel the tremor that moved through him as she gripped his broad, muscular shoulders, her own body shaking with sweet, shivering chills as he skimmed his lips along the edge of her jaw. “I want that sweet little cove between your thighs, El. I want to lick it. Lap at it like a cat. Suck on your clit until you can’t do anything but hold on to me and scream from the pleasure.”

  She trembled even harder as his husky, erotic words curled against her skin, same as they had earlier that day, at her house. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips between her breasts, then to the hollow of her throat, where her pulse was rushing madly, and finally back to her lips, his tongue raking her mouth with melting, destructive skill.

  “I want to put my tongue inside you, just like this,” he whispered, thrusting his tongue into the tender depths of her mouth. “Want to put my lips around your delicate little opening and drink from you. Take those slick juices into my mouth and swallow them down.”

  “Oh, God,” she gasped, moaning his name.

  “You want me to give you more, sweetheart?”

  She caught her lip in her teeth, loving how it made him groan almost as much as she loved the way he called her sweetheart. “Y-yes. But I’m... I don’t know if I can...”

  He muttered something against her hair, his breath warm against her scalp, sending another delicious shiver racing over her skin. Then he pulled back and braced himself on his straight arms, his thick hair falling around his face like a silken wave of darkness. “Do you trust me?” he asked her. His voice was rough and low but soft, a tender look of hunger burning in the glittering depths of his eyes. It made her feel molten, restless, as if she was getting ready to come out of her skin. “Answer the question, El.”

  “Y-yes,” she answered with all honesty, stunned to realize that it was true. “I trust you.”

  The next thing she knew, she was sitting up on the bed alone, watching him cross the room to his dresser. He opened a drawer, rummaged around in it, then turned and came back to the bed, a dark blue tie clutched in one powerful fist.

  Whoa. What the hell?

  “I’m not letting you tie me up, Wyatt.” Not in this lifetime!

  He smirked as he came onto the bed on his knees. “It’s not for you, El.”

  “Huh?”

  Tossing the tie to her, he laid down on his back and stretched his long arms over his head, gripping one of the slats in the headboard. Her gaze pinged from the impressive bulge at his crotch to the dark, masculine tufts of hair under his arms, then settled onto his breathtaking gaze. “Now what?” she asked through tingling lips.

  “Now you tie me up.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious? You’d let me do that?”

  “Sure. I trust you,” he murmured with a sexy, playful wink. “I’d let you do anything you wanted to me.”

  She shivered again and had no doubt he could see just ho
w aroused she was by the look on her face and in her eyes, her body practically steaming she was so turned on. It took her a few tries, with the way her fingers were shaking, but she finally managed to get the silky tie secured around his strong wrists, binding them to the headboard.

  “Done,” she whispered as she sat back on her heels, impressed with her handiwork.

  He gave a little experimental tug, then jerked his chin at her. “Now get your gorgeous little ass over here and ride me.”

  “Through your jeans?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart.” His voice was raw, every mouthwatering muscle in his long body coiled tight with need. “Right through my jeans.”

  Biting her lip, she straddled his waist, then scooted back, until she could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her core. He was long and hard and impossibly thick, but instead of freaking her out, her body responded with a melting rush of heat that was probably soaking through her panties and right through her sweats.

  “Now take control of me, El. Use me. I’m all yours. Just be gentle,” he said with another sexy smirk, staring up at her from beneath the thick weight of his lashes. She knew he was trying to tease her, to ease her through her fears, and she couldn’t help but smile, completely charmed. He was wonderfully hard, everywhere, his arms and torso corded with muscle and sinew, powerful thighs tensed and ready—and yet, he held himself completely still for her, giving himself over to her in a way that she never would have imagined a man as dominant as Wyatt could do.

  “Christ, El. You are so beautiful,” he rasped, the quiet words rough with lust. He was always saying things like that to her, and she knew she would never get tired of hearing it.

  “Wyatt,” she breathed out, leaning over him and gripping his round biceps, loving how they flexed beneath her hands.

  “Move,” he forced out through his gritted teeth. “Now, El. Fucking ride me.”

  Biting her lip again, she gave a tentative roll of her hips, her breath catching at how incredible it felt to rub that most sensitive part of her body against his denim-covered erection. He was unbelievably huge and so freaking hard it made her insides clench when she thought of how mind-shattering it would be to have all those long, stiff inches buried deep inside her.

  His head dug into the pillow as he stared up at her, a feral look in his eyes. She moved a little harder against him, increasing her speed, and watched those dark eyes nearly roll back in his head. His throat worked on a hard swallow, voice little more than a guttural, savage animal sound as he said, “You feel so damn good.”

  “You, too,” she whispered, breathless, thinking that friction was great. Friction was her freaking new best friend. Forget chocolate and ice cream and hazelnut lattes. Her and friction were going to be inseparable from now on, so long as Wyatt Pallaton was willing to lend her a hand. Or his body.

  “You gonna come, El?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, moving her hips faster, her fingers clenching against his hard biceps as she felt her body flush with heat, the roots of her hair damp with sweat. “Can you?”

  “Can I what?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with a wicked, predatory spark within his outrageously beautiful face. He was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever set eyes on, and yet, he was 100 percent male. Rough and rugged and deliciously masculine, from his woodsy scent to his incredibly ripped physique. Even his forearms were sexy as hell, muscle and sinew and thick veins bulging beneath his bronzed skin as he gripped the headboard tighter, until the wood started to groan.

  “Can you come this way?” she gasped, so wet now she knew she was probably leaving a damp spot on the front of his jeans.

  “You want me to?” he growled, his nostrils flaring as she watched him from beneath her lashes, both of them breathing as if they were nearing the finish line of a marathon.

  She nodded as she licked her lips, not trusting her voice if she tried to speak.

  “Then touch yourself.” The rough words were sharp with command. “Put your hand inside your underwear and get your fingers wet for me.”

  “Why?” she asked, curious about where he was going with this.

  “Because if I’m going to come in my pants like a goddamn horny teenager,” he explained, lifting his hips against her, “then I at least want your taste in my mouth when I do it.”

  Oh. Well, when he put it like that...how could she argue? And why would she even want to? Color burned in her face, but she didn’t let embarrassment hold her back. Damn it, she wasn’t a virgin, and she didn’t plan on acting like one. So with that private little pep talk ringing through her head, she took a deep breath and slipped her fingers under the waistband of the sweats, inside her panties and down between her legs, where she was slippery and slick, melting into a liquid rush of heat.

  “Fuck, yes,” he hissed a moment later, when she pulled her glistening fingers from the top of her sweats. “Now put them in my mouth, El. Let me suck on your juices while you’re rubbing me out.”

  Gripping his hard shoulder with her other hand, she lifted her wet fingers, thinking she’d simply place them against his parted lips. But as soon as they were close enough, he lifted his head and covered her fingers with his mouth. She gasped, the sight of him sucking so hungrily on her taste almost as sexy as the primal, animalistic sounds he was making.

  “So goddamn sweet,” he snarled when he finally pulled back, his rough tongue still licking her fingers clean, as if he were greedy for every drop of her flavor.

  “Wyatt, I’m c-close,” she stammered, her voice rising.

  His jaw tightened and she felt his legs shift, then realized he’d been bracing his feet against the bed when he suddenly shoved his hips up harder against her, his cock like a brand against her sensitive folds even with the layers of clothing between them. “Do it now,” he ordered, the guttural tone of the wolf nearly drowning out the voice of the man. “I want to come with you, El. So do it the fuck now!”

  She flung her head back and screamed as the orgasm tore through her, her body reacting to his raw, erotic command as if she’d been put under his spell. And maybe she had. This certainly didn’t seem like her, because she could never remember being this wild with her pleasure, her arms folded over her head as she ground her pulsing sex against him so hard she could feel the instant he started to ejaculate. His back arched, tendons straining, as the most visceral, guttural roar she’d ever heard surged up from his chest, the powerful feel of his own release pumping through him only making her come even harder. Her orgasm was lush and strong and bone-meltingly good, and after what seemed like a long, endless forever, she finally collapsed against his hot, sweaty chest, his mouthwatering scent filling her nose as she struggled to remember how to pull air into her aching lungs.

  The sound of his rough voice telling her to untie him was the only thing that could have compelled her to move. Still a little too shaken to look him in the eye, she kept her gaze focused on her task as she leaned over him and undid the knot, freeing his wrists. Before she could even lean back or move to his side, he sat up and wrapped those strong arms around her, clutching her against him. One hand found its way into the back of her hair, fisting the heavy strands, the other moving low across her back as he kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips and his tongue. When she groaned, liking the taste, he took her mouth even harder, deeper, eating at her as if he needed her to breathe. She hoped she would one day be able to capture this kind of need in her writing, but knew she still hadn’t come anywhere close. How could she have, when she’d never experienced it for herself until now?

  “You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” he growled against her lips.

  “You’re pretty incredible yourself,” she whispered.

  When he finally stopped ravaging her mouth, he rubbed his nose against hers, the tender gesture making her breath catch. Then he carefully twisted and laid her down against the bed so that her head was on his pillow, and reached for the blanket at the foot of the mattress to cover her up. “Sleep tig
ht, beautiful.”

  Uh...what on earth?

  “Wyatt?” she murmured, sitting up as he slipped off the bed and back to his feet. With a start, she realized he was already hard again, his cock rigid behind the damp fly of his jeans, his gorgeous eyes still heavy with lust. But if he was still aroused, then why was he leaving her? “Where are you going?”

  “To take a shower. The colder the better,” he told her, a wry grin on his sensual lips as he backed away from the bed. He moved slowly, almost as if he didn’t want to go but was forcing himself to. “We’re talking arctic, because it’s the only way I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you until you’re ready for more.” His gaze swept over her face, taking in her kiss-swollen lips and the hot flush of pleasure on her cheeks, and he winked at her just before he turned and walked through the doorway. “And you’d better not be laughing at me, woman, because that ain’t cool after you got me in this state!” he called out from behind the closed bathroom door, the teasing note in his voice making the grin that had suddenly started to curl her lips turn downright sappy.

  Flopping back onto the bed, Elise buried her face in his pillow and muffled the laughter she couldn’t stop, wondering if she’d lost her mind. It was either that or her heart. She was screwed, either way. But at the moment she was just too damn happy to care.

  She might not have made love to Wyatt, but she’d brought him pleasure. Had made him curse and moan and come. It was something she’d never thought she would have—but now that she’d gotten it, she wanted more. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to want every single freaking thing he could give her.

  Even though she knew they could never be hers.