“Maybe it’s time we talked about our agreed mating.” His canines scraped along the side of very delicate tissue.
“Goblegack,” she said. Her mind blanked, her body short-circuited.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He slowly licked her slit.
Did wolves have rougher tongues than people? Not that she remembered doing this before. But still. “No . . . mating.”
Another finger entered her. He went to work with pur-pose, with some serious damn talent. Vibrations shook her legs. Her stomach muscles contracted. White sparks flashed behind her eyes.
Could a shifter go crazy from too much pleasure?
Who the hell cared?
She twisted against the cool surface, nerves firing. A ball of lightning uncoiled into tendrils of flame deep inside her.
She gasped, holding her breath, trying to jump into the fire.
If he’d just give a little more pressure—
He sucked her entire clit into his mouth.
She cried out, arching her back until only her shoulders remained on the desk. The orgasm crested through her on shards of raw need, finally breaking over into waves of intense pleasure. She rode them out, panting, her mind blank-ing. The intensity sheeted the entire room white and silent.
Awareness returned as she relaxed into mush. He stood, fully dressed, male satisfaction crossing his face. His gaze dark and intent, he tugged his T-shirt over his head. Hard, sculpted, natural muscle shifted as his hands went to his jeans. He was too male, too beautiful to be real. She sighed.
“I really love your chest.”
His upper lip quirked as he kicked his jeans away.
“Ditto.”
“Whoa.” Her eyebrows lifted. He was erect and so freakin’
huge. Tingles cascaded inside her abdomen.
The dark determination in his gaze shot awareness up her spine. An odd craving throbbed between her legs. Again.
How was this possible?
Naked, real, Terrent Vilks was all strength, all predator.
And right now, his absolute focus pinned her in place.
Her heart fluttered in female awareness. An instinct as old as time. One that had her stilling, watching him, part of her wanting to run . . . the other part needing him to make good the demand in his dark eyes. To take her as he wanted.
He grasped her biceps and tugged her into a seated position. Warm palms swept the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms.
Her breath caught in her lungs. Desire spun inside her stomach with harsh wings.
Erotic sparks danced on her skull as he threaded his fingers in her hair, tilting her head. Between his hands, he cradled her face and brought his mouth down on hers. Her heart jumped into action as he held her in place, hunger swirling through her. The kiss was firm, demanding, possessive. A statement. A claim.
A sharp nip to her lip made her open her mouth, the small bite a declaration that there would be no barriers between them. No protection—no hiding. Plunging in, his tongue stroked her, heat rolling off his strong body to warm her front.
Her nails sank into his powerful biceps, while flames licked her into a craving so intense it’d be frightening if she had time to think.
He released her, pleasure curving his smile.
She swallowed and searched for reality. “Um, bedroom?”
Heat flared in his eyes. “No.” Sliding her off the desk, he turned her around to face the far wall. His erection brushed her bare buttocks.
She stopped breathing. Again. “Um—”
Flattening against her upper back, his rough palm gently pushed her down. She turned her head, resting her cheek against the chilled walnut. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she swallowed a moan. His foot nudged her thighs farther apart.
Oh God.
His hands grasped her hips, tilting them.
On all that is holy.
He plunged inside her with one strong stroke. The heavy desk moved a foot. Fire lanced along every nerve in her lower body. Her nipples hardened to steel against the desk.
Her head shot up, her chin on the surface. The wall danced and morphed in her vision, so she closed her eyes.
Tightening his hold, he withdrew, slowly pushing back inside her. Large, he caressed needy nerves she hadn’t realized she had. He tilted her hips to a higher angle. She turned her head and buried her face in her arms. Too much feeling . . .
too much pleasure. God, she craved him.
He slid out and then back in. His palms branded her skin.
Their breathing filled the heavy silence.
Embedded inside her to the hilt, he allowed a moment to pass as he remained still.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Instinct ruled as she widened her stance.
His sharp intake of breath was the only warning provided.
Long fingers bit into her flesh. One arm snaked under her, winding to flatten against her upper chest and yank her to him. Her head jerked up. Her back bowed. With one hand, he controlled her completely as he started to move.
To pound.
To take her like the wolf he was.
The force of his thrusts pressed her against the desk. Restrained, she couldn’t move, could do nothing but feel. The sense of helplessness heightened every sensation. She lifted onto her tiptoes, taking more of him. Taking all of him.
The pounding increased in strength and speed.
Her calves trembled, the sensation rippling up her legs, her butt, her spine, to the top of her neck. She tightened around him, gripping with a strength that shot tears into her eyes. Each hard thrust blasted stabs of pleasure through her skin.
She was so close.
With a sharp cry of relief, she broke.
She screamed as great spasms rode her into blasting waves that battered into a painful pleasure. The fine line between the two blurred, leaving only sensation. Deep, dark, dangerous sensation. A feeling she’d always know existed ... would always want.
Only Terrent Vilks could create it.
Coming down with a sob, her body went limp.
The powerful shifter ground against her, his whisper of her name the barest of kisses on her neck.
Chapter Seven
Maggie tugged down her sweater and tripped over a rock.
Terrent shut the passenger door of his SUV and grabbed her arm. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She righted herself. What had she been thinking in his study? She’d never look at a walnut desk the same way again. Any desk, actually.
“Why are you grinning?” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, providing balance and safety.
Of a sort.
“I’m not.” She picked her way carefully over the gravel drive and wiped the smile off her face. Nope. Still smiling.“Why are we going to this shindig?”
He shrugged and nearly dislodged her. “We live in this pack’s boundaries, and we were invited to the celebration. So we go.”
So this was what being part of a couple felt like. After living with all the happily mated vampires, she’d wondered.
The man’s use of the word “we” warmed something inside her. But she wouldn’t completely know herself, know what she wanted, until her memories returned. “We don’t live together, Terrent.” Their grappling over the desk notwith-standing.
“We will.” His worn black T-shirt emphasized solid muscle, while his faded, ripped jeans encased long legs.
“You need a new wardrobe.”
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound almost happy. “So you’ve always said.”
“Your wardrobe bothered me?” Her boot tottered on loose gravel, and she grabbed his waist to keep from falling.
“Not really. But you liked to give me a hard time, anyway.”
Yeah. That sounded like her. She swallowed. They loped across a worn trail from the parking lot at the rear of the main lodge. Now was the chance for her to do what the king had asked—investigate the inoculation problem. “I guess it’ll be nice to meet some other wolves.”