Chapter 15
(Five months later)
Seated before the fire relaxing, Chance heard Isabelle rustling around in the kitchen. “What are you doing, woman?”
“Making us a snack.”
“Snack? Hell, dinner’ll be ready in,” he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall over the mantle. Oh! “A few hours.” He dropped his feet and was just getting ready to shove up to go help her when she rounded the couch.
“Sit down. I got you.”
He grinned, liking the way she said things. I got you.
She settled a tray on the table and he sat forward and eyed it. It was hard to do, because Isabelle had showered early and was currently wearing a pair of thick thermal socks pulled up her calves to just below her knees and one of the nightgowns she’d picked up on their last trip to town. It wasn’t revealing like the one she’d had the first night she’d stayed. No, this one was basically a long shirt that ended about four inches above her knees. It was white and had a San Francisco Forty-Niner’s logo on the front. It was sexy as all fuck and even more distracting. He liked that she was comfortable enough around him to dress the way she wanted. It hadn’t been that way right after her attack, but slowly, she’d started to trust him.
Tearing his eyes from where her breasts tented the front, he studied the tray she placed on the table. It wasn’t like any snack he’d ever had. A large platter filled with two types of crackers and four different cheeses sat next to a pile of red grapes and a bowl of black olives. Isabelle had found two wine glasses in the cupboard and was filling them with a fragrant pink wine. When she handed him a glass, Chance popped a piece of cheese and an olive in his mouth before taking a sip, and holy-sheep-shit. Damn if it didn’t taste good.
They’d fallen into an unbelievably comfortable routine over the past few months. Chance worked; Isabelle stayed home, and when he came home each night, there she was. His house felt like a home now, with her making it a place he wanted to be instead of place he simply owned. She baked a lot, and if he wasn’t a shifter, he knew he’d have gained twenty pounds by now, but his high metabolism burned off all the sugary sweet treats and plethora of homemade breads she pampered him with. She even had dinner on the table each night when he came home from work. Word had spread about the man eater he’d killed and business had picked up. Now, as he sat back on the couch next to her, he felt like he’d been with Isabelle forever. She was patient and funny, kind and considerate. He couldn’t understand how any man could have difficulty appreciating her for the woman she was.
Leaning forward to snatch another cracker and more cheese, he tossed the food into his mouth and sipped at his wine. Wine! He’d never tried the stuff before, but every other week when he and Isabelle went shopping, she bought things that she said ‘paired well together’. He had to admit she was right. She hadn’t introduced him to anything he didn’t like. He liked her choices in food, he liked her cooking, he liked her and that feeling had grown – especially now that that fucker’s scent had faded from her.
It’d been torture those first few weeks, watching Isabelle struggle to come to grips with what had happened. The whole time, she’d smelled like him and it had gutted both Chance and his wolverine.
Now, she smelled like sugar and spice and home and his.
“Chance, we need to talk.”
Oh shit! He’d been reaching for an olive and he froze, hand outstretched. “That sounds ominous.”
She gave him an empty grin, and it confirmed what he’d most feared.
“Staying here with you has been…wonderful.”
Ahh, fuck no. He knew this was where she told him she wanted to leave. “How are you feeling? You’re doing better, right?” He was desperately trying to change the subject, to steer her away from her course.
“Y-yeah. I am better. Physically, I’m one hundred percent. Emotionally, I’m…” She shrugged. “I’m getting there. I realize now that what happened to me wasn’t my fault. None of it was. I did everything I could to make it work with Zeke, to make him happy. I was a good partner, I took care of him and did the best I could, and other than being bad in the bedroom, I was a great girlfriend.”
“Wait!” Chance’s face scrunched up. “What? What do you mean, ‘bad in the bedroom’?”
Isabelle blushed hard. “I don’t want to talk about that, I just wanted to say...”
“No.” He sat up straight, cutting her off. “Him letting you believe lies about yourself is part of the problem. You need to get over all of it, Belle. Now, tell me what you meant by you being bad in bed.”
“I hated sex with him.” Standing to walk to the fire, she rested her shoulder against the hearth and looked into the flames. “Sex with him felt like punishment.”
“Punishment?”
She was facing away from him, but from this angle he could see her cheeks flood with heat. She looked down at her hands as she spoke. “He couldn’t ever get me off, so when he got frustrated he’d get too rough, like he could force it. He was a selfish lover too. Always wanted to be in positions that were painful for me, but suited him just fine. He’d get all excited and lean on my hair, ripping it out, or slap my ass way too hard. I hated sex with him, it felt like fighting for affection, and I always lost.”
“Did he ever get you off, Belle?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that was him, though. I’ve never…” She fell quiet, unsure if she wanted to share.
“You never what?”
Lifting her head with borrowed confidence, she looked Chance dead in the eye. “I read somewhere that lots of women can’t achieve orgasm. I’m pretty sure I’m one of them.”
“No, you’re not,” he responded immediately, letting confidence fill his tone.
“What about you?” she countered. “Is getting off so easy for you?”
“Hell yes!” He leaned back on the sofa, folding his arms behind his head. Isabelle turned to watch him, her eyes sliding over his body like they did so often lately. He flexed his abs beneath the thin material of his shirt, his biceps bunching and bulging. “I’m in my prime,” he continued. “I masturbate at least three times a day. Four or five since you’ve been here.”
***
Isabelle tore her eyes from Chance’s sexy as hell body to stare at him in shock as her mouth fell open at his honest admission. Four or five since I’ve been here!
“Most days all I think about is finding a welcoming female, but that’s not how things work out around here.”
She knew her cheeks had been red earlier, but now they stung with flaming heat at his crass words even as heat gathered between her thighs. “What…what do you mean?” She stammered and tripped over her words, too busy imagining him sliding into her to follow the conversation.
“Women don’t want to live out here like this. They don’t want a mountain man with a rugged life. They want city life, restaurants, coffee shops, and fine dining. They don’t want a man like me rutting into them, fucking them hard like some dirty beast.”
His words sent a punch of lust to her womb and she felt her breath hitch as her pussy clenched. Chance dipped his head and his nostrils flared as he did that sniffing thing he did right before he knew way too much. She watched, transfixed, as he drew in a deep breath and let lifted his head. His eyes fluttered closed, and Isabelle swore he could smell the damp need between her legs. Chance’s tongue darted out to rest on his top lip, and he groaned. Isabelle felt her breasts grow heavy, ripe fruit ready for plucking. Her nipples tightened into strained little buds and her chest heaved at the sight of him.
She’d been fighting her attraction to him for the past fivr months. He’d been good to her, letting her stay with him while she healed both emotionally and physically. She didn’t want him thinking she was some screwed-up sicko because she was falling for him, especially after what had happened to her. She knew it’d take most women longer to recover, but she didn’t want to give that kind of power to Zeke. She wanted her life back. She wanted Chance, but she did her best to hide it. He couldn’t know how much she wanted him, he’d think she was nuts.
Pushing off the hearth, she lowered her eyes and tried to hurry from the room. She didn’t make it.
In a flash Chance was on her, one arm circling her waist to hold her against the hard length of his body at her back, while the other hand collared her throat and forced her chin up so he could run his nose down the delicate column. It didn’t scare her, not at all. In fact, it only turned her on more, causing her body to tremble.
“Running from a predator isn’t a good idea, Belle.”
“I didn’t,” she breathed. “I wasn’t…”
“What?” he asked, running his whiskers over that place behind her ear that sent goose bumps erupting across her flesh.
“I have to,” she argued breathlessly, even as she knew her words weren’t making sense. It was hard to convey her thoughts when the hand around her waist was bunching her night shirt, making it inch its way up her thighs.
“Say what you mean, baby.”
“I can’t,” her eyes were pinched tight shut now, and he watched over her shoulder as she licked her lips. “We can’t,” she amended.
“Why not? Why can’t we?” His hand was still bunching up her shirt, the hem above her waist now. “You don’t want to?”
She knew she should have been mortified that he’d see she wasn’t wearing underwear, but he wasn’t looking. He wouldn’t know. “I do, but I told you,” she moaned helplessly. “I’m no good at this. You wouldn’t enjoy it.”
“The fuck I wouldn’t.” He grazed his teeth across her neck then nipped at her shoulder. “Stop overthinking, Belle.” His hand flattened on her bare stomach, and her breath hitched. “Don’t tell me what you think. Tell me what you feel. Tell me what you want.”
When she continued to pant instead of speaking he inched his hand lower, gliding his fingertips lightly over her smooth skin. As he cupped her pussy his whole body went rigid. A growl vibrated up his chest before he snarled, “No panties, dirty girl? You do that for me?”
Hell yes! She didn’t respond though. She couldn’t. His fingers sluicing through her wet folds stole all thought. All she could manage was a desperate cry as her body convulsed at his caress. Hell, she nearly came from that one single touch.
“Tell me what you want, Belle.” His fingers slid through her cream and he used it to coat her clit before he applied slight pressure and began rubbing erotic little circles.
“You,” she breathed. “I-I want… I want you, Chance.”
“Where?” He slid his fingers back, tucking one against her entrance without going in. He was teasing her, making her beg.
“Inside,” she murmured. “Inside me.”
“Mmmm,” he growled at her throat before sucking the delicate flesh into his mouth. Isabelle swore she could feel the tug all the way to her nipples, and she cried out again, the sound turning to a gasp when his finger slid into her and her pussy convulsed around it.
Chance released her flesh with smack. “Ffffuck, you’re so responsive. I’m going to make you come so fucking hard you’ll see stars.”
She was suddenly shocked to realize she was already close. She could feel a coil tightening and tightening inside her as he continued to rub her clit, stopping periodically to thrust his fingers inside her. He spun her around so fast her eyes flew open and she clung to him to steady herself.
“Just one taste, baby. I’m gonna die if I don’t have one little taste.” Then he was lowering to his knees, and before Isabelle could protest, his tongue slithered through her swollen folds. Her hands fisted his hair to steady herself, but when his lips closed around the pearl of her clit and began sucking, her knees nearly buckled. Chance’s hands caught her ass, holding her up, his palms spreading her cheeks as his tongue drove into her, stroking her. Isabelle screamed his name, and suddenly she clenched around his tongue as she spilled her honey. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough for Chance. He continued to lap at her, savoring every drop and drawing out her orgasm before he rose and carried her to the table. He set her on it with her ass close to the edge, and when her lust-filled eyes blinked up at him he snarled, “You taste like heaven.”
Her limbs shook and she knew she was a wet mess, her body still spilling its cream, preparing itself for him. He stepped back, quickly stripping his clothing away, and then he was back between her thighs. His cock brushed against her lips and Isabelle arched at the intimate touch. She knew what was coming, and she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
“Look at me, Belle,” he commanded, and Isabelle did. “You want this? I have to know you want this, that you’re ready.”
She nodded and offered, “Yes. I’m ready, Chance.”
She watched him as his eyes dipped to watch his cock push slowly inside of her. His neck muscles flexed and strained as his lip curled back, and he snarled as if fighting for control. It was a heady thing to watch, knowing she was doing this to him. Her body, his need for her body, was shattering his control. Chance was always in control. Always…until now.
Slowly, he filled her and damn he was big. She’d never felt this stretched, never felt this friction on nerve endings deep inside her that caused her to writhe out of control. It took a few slow, steady tries, but once he was fully seated inside of her, his eyes locked on Isabelle’s. And then, he moved. His hips pounded against hers, rocking the table and making scraping sounds on the floor. He slid in and out, fast and deep. Isabelle spread her legs further, wanting him deeper, and Chance obliged. His hips pummeled hers and soon, Isabelle was crying out a second time, her channel seizing, constricting his movements as he continued to work while her pussy milked him. A few more thrusts, and then Chance detonated inside her, shooting his seed deep into her womb with a roar as he threw back his head. His incisors had elongated and it was sexy as fuck! The sight of Chance finding release was the most beautiful thing Isabelle had ever seen. She took a mental photograph, wanting to keep it in her memory forever, because Chance had been right. She wasn’t broken, it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t bad at sex, but Zeke hadn’t lied, not really. He’d just been wrong. One of them had been bad at sex, and it’d been him, not her. It took a man like Chance to make her bloom. Where Zeke had been storm clouds, darkening her life, Chance was her sunlight, opening her up so she could blossom into the woman she was meant to be.
He kissed her gently before pulling from her body to carry her to their room. Chance had been sleeping on the couch each night, but not tonight. Tonight, he was hers. And she was his.