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“What did you just say?” she asked as she hopped back to him.
He held her carefully. “That I love every piece of clothing you choose to wear.”
She took him in hand as he pinned her against the door, and every nerve ending in his body lit up.
He put his fingers to her breast as he kissed her, feeling like a bumbling teenager driven out of his mind with hot flesh, cold beauty, and her breath in his lungs.
She hitched one leg around his hip, and he helped her scoot up so they were eye to eye.
“Hi,” he said, already panting. He drew the hairband out of her hair, letting it fall wildly around them.
She laughed loud and long, and it rang through the house. “That’s your dirty talk? Hi?”
He kissed her to shut her up and then speared into her, unable to wait another second. Gravity helped her sink down until her pupils blew wide. She thrashed her head, banging into the door.
He put his mouth to the exposed stretch of neck she so helpfully bared for him and sucked hard on her skin. Some devilish part of him wanted to mark her as payback for her bite.
He drove into her as he sucked at the notch between neck and shoulder, letting her twitching muscles and roving hands guide him. Her fingers twined in the base of his hair and pulled until he let go and kissed her. He wanted to bruise her lips too but told himself to gentle his touch. He failed.
He was perilously close to the edge but tried to hold off. He focused on how her back was grinding his hand into the door behind them; the bite of pain helped to keep him from falling over.
He changed the angle and the speed, trying to find the perfect rhythm to drive her wild. He found a sliver of control, so when she went rigid around him, he kept up the pace until his vision dimmed. Finally, he couldn’t have stopped his orgasm if he tried.
Even with shifter strength, he could barely stay upright, and it was all he could do to withdraw and lean beside her like a deflating balloon. His legs trembled, and he couldn’t suck in enough air.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her face hidden by a sheet of blonde hair.
Slowly, he drew his hand through it to push it out of her face. Her cheeks were red; she had a hickey up half the side of her neck, and her lips were swollen. He tried to keep the satisfaction he felt off his face.
She peered up at him. “Hi.”
He laughed, knocking his head into the door and wincing at the strike. He raised his hand to his head and noticed the woodhad bruised and scraped his knuckles, though they were already healing. He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but he would know if she wasn’t, probably with a pair of teeth to his ass.
He loved that about her, that he would never wonder where he stood or what she was thinking.
She was strong enough for his wolf.
Was that coming from the beast? He probed inside, only to find the animal was pretty much unconscious with delight.
She was toying with the buttons on his shirt he hadn’t taken off and then started toying with his nipple.
Distracting pleasure spiraled through him along with a deeper thought.
What other man could tame her?
She’d already said her family couldn’t handle her. But no, tame was the wrong word. He didn’t want to tame her. She wasn’t a wild horse. He wanted her wild, so he could enjoy the fun.
She switched to his other nipple, and impossibly, he felt himself stir again.
When he felt her teeth on his shoulder, he said, “Okay, okay.”
He sat down on the stairs and pulled her into his lap, settling her legs wide around his and groaning as she sank onto him. He entered her slowly and completely.
“I love shifters.”
The wolf reared in outrage.
“Any shifter?” he asked through clenched, elongating teeth.
