Chapter Eleven
Watching Olivia writhe beneath him was hot as hell. Her nipples jutted up, begging for his mouth. He gave her what she wanted, what he wanted. He ran his nose along the swell of her full breast, his tongue teasing the puckered tips until she was gasping. She was so beautiful, so abandoned. Her lips parted, her ragged breath filling the room as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. She tasted so damn good. He took his time, learning what made her whimper—what pleased her most.
All the while, his finger was buried inside of her. Where he belonged.
His wolf was pacing, crazed with the need to claim her. She wanted this, the wolf insisted. She wanted to be his mate.
Mal kissed his way down her side, sucking hard enough to leave a mark on her creamy skin. His wolf would have to be satisfied with marking her skin. He went lower, tracing the arch of her hipbone, nuzzling the juncture of hip and thigh and easing her legs wide. Seeing Olivia so hungry for him, so exposed, almost shook his resistance. He wouldn’t bury himself inside her, wouldn’t please the wolf, no matter how much he ached for it. Instead, he slid another finger inside of her. She clenched around him, the breath powering out her chest and leaving him trembling. His dick so hard he knew he’d be hurting if he didn’t find some release.
His mouth latched on to her upper thigh, his teeth grazing the skin. When she reached down, her hands tangling in his hair, he smiled. She might not know what she was asking for, but he did.
His tongue skimmed over the tight bundle of nerves, driving her crazy. So good, like honey, pure honey. He wanted more. Every time he sank his fingers into her, his dick throbbed. She was tight and wet and ready for him. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t leave her—touching her was all that mattered.
She is ours.
He tried to shut the wolf out, to lose himself in the taste and feel of Olivia. But the knowledge that no one else had touched her this way was powerful. A surge of possessiveness gripped him, shaking him to the core. No one but him. Ever.
Not yet. He’d promised himself she would never be their mate. He couldn’t allow it. She deserved better.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling his head closer.
He worshipped her, frantic to claim her in some small way. His tongue worked her over, pulling moans from the back of her throat. His fingers, tightly enveloped within her, stroked deep—drawing little gasps of pleasure. It was his mouth that made her fall apart beneath him. Nipping and sucking her clit, his tongue drinking in the taste of her as her body clenched and shook with the strength of her release. She grew soft and limp, her hands sliding from his hair.
Laying between her legs, his cheek resting on her thigh, it was hard to ignore his rock-hard dick and raging hunger. He ran his fingers over her, watched as her body clenched. The urge to bury himself deep, to finish what he started, wasn’t easing. Better to remove himself from the situation than lose his control.
She wrapped her legs around his waist. He growled, his hands on either side of her face, holding himself above her. So close—so fucking close he could feel her heat.
Olivia smiled at him. “Wow.” She was all smiles. “Really. Wow.”
All he could do was grunt as he tried like hell not to think about arching into her.
Her smile faded. “Are you mad?” she whispered.
He wasn’t sure how to answer that. Staring down at her, all flushed and rosy and shuddering with aftershocks, wasn’t helping. God, he wanted her. No, he wasn’t mad. But admitting he was horny as hell, on the verge of losing it all over her stomach, probably wasn’t a good idea. She was too caught up in her orgasm to realize what she did to him. For him, right now, she was all silk curves and smiling invitation. An invitation he couldn’t accept. His, “No,” was a snarl.
“No?” she echoed, her fingertips running down his sides.
Goddammit. Her touch sent a shudder down his spine, causing him to jerk away from her—pressing his painful hard-on against her thigh. She froze, her eyes going round as her gaze traveled across his chest and down his stomach to examine his erection. When her gaze met his, her breathing was unsteady.
The unexpected feel of her fingers stroking him was heavenly torture. He pressed his eyes shut and groaned, arms stiffening, braced over her, too stunned to move. Not that he wanted to move. Hell no. This could work—this was what he needed. Her fingers closed around his shaft, sliding up, tracing the sensitive tip, and gliding down again. Arching into her hand was the natural thing. She understood, her grip tightening ever so slightly as she slid from root to tip, over and over. Her lips fastened onto his chest, her tongue stroked his nipple, and all the while her hand was leading him to surrender. His breathing grew frenzied, his thrust matching the rhythm of her stroke. His eyes popped open, boring into hers while her hand kept working.
“Mal,” she whispered. Her cheeks flushed pink, her red tongue darting out to lick her lower lip.
He came hard and fast—lost and found in a way he knew he’d pay for later. His blood roared, pure pleasure shooting through his veins and holding him rigid in her grip. It went on and on, draining him of his tension and anger. The calm that followed was unexpected.
She was smiling, looking far too pleased with herself. Her hand hovered over her abdomen, one finger tracking through the evidence of his release across her belly. All he could do was stare, his erection returning with a vengeance. She was incredible. Sexy, eager, generous—his.
“I do this to you?” she asked.
He nodded, once.
“You don’t like it?” she asked, her brows arching high.
He nodded again, smoothing a curl from her forehead. Like wasn’t the right word. Terrified worked.
She frowned. “Is this a normal human thing? Or is the craving a wolf thing?”
“I don’t know.” He was still a little breathless. But her question made him panic.
Her nose wrinkled. “Oh.”
Relief washed over him, and his wolf. Because he was a stupid ass. “I’ll be back,” he grumbled, pushing off the bed and crossing to the bathroom.
He found a washcloth and ran it under warm water, then returned. She lay in the middle of the bed, eyes closed, arms stretched over her head, legs parted. Pure sensual abandonment, and one helluva temptation. He glanced down at his cock rising to attention, and sighed.
“Mal,” she said, far too eager. “I-I don’t need mirrors.”
He sat on the side of the bed, wiping off the smooth plane of her stomach and all evidence of his weakness. “You need sleep,” he murmured. He carried the washcloth back into the bathroom and rinsed it in the sink, avoiding his own reflection in the mirror. How could he stay mad at Finn for breaking his word to them when he couldn’t even follow through on a promise he’d made to himself? He rubbed a hand across his face, instantly distracted by the lingering scent of Olivia on his fingers.
Her scent.
He turned, staring into the bedroom. Olivia was already asleep, curled onto her side. And even though he knew there were things to discuss, this was where he wanted to be. He slid between the sheets and fitted her tight against him. She stretched slightly, her back arching against his chest, the delectable curve of her ass tilting toward his more than willing erection. He buried his nose in her hair, pressed his hand against her belly, and let himself imagine what it would be like to have Olivia as mate.
...
Olivia didn’t want to wake up. She was warm and relaxed, Mal’s breath stirring the air above her ear. He was sound asleep, his body twitching occasionally. How long had it been since he’d slept? Her nightmare situation had lasted no time at all compared to the three months he’d spent in that place.
She closed her eyes, relishing the calm.
It was time to wrap her head around what was about to happen. Meeting Finn and the rest of the pack would change everything. Again. As much as she wanted to believe Mal wouldn’t leave her—especially now that they’d shared whatever this was—her stomach churned all the same. And instead of pushing the issue and getting a direct answer, she’d let this happen. And, oh my goodness, had she happened. She sighed, a full-body shudder reminding her of the pure bliss Mal had introduced her to.
Blissful for her, maybe not so much for him? He’d had sexual experiences before. What she’d considered a life-changing event might not rank in his top ten. Her euphoria took a sharp dip. Not that she wanted him to stay for purely physical reasons. She just wanted him to stay—with her.
He wouldn’t leave her right away. If he did go, it would be after she’d been accepted by Finn’s pack. A pack she didn’t know. There was so much she didn’t know. With Mal’s tight-lipped disposition, getting answers from him would be a challenge. And time was running out.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was gruff.
She jumped. “Nothing. You were sleeping.”
“I was,” he agreed. “Your heart is pounding.”
“And that woke you?” she asked, smiling. Was it wrong that she loved how in tune he was to her?
“Apparently.” He stretched, his hard angles grinding against her back in a most distracting way. “What’s wrong?”
No point lying. He’d figure it out. “Thinking. About things. This Ellen person. I saw your reaction.”
He groaned.
“I understand. Why trust her? If she’s an Other—”
Mal’s voice was harsh, biting. “The girl in the house said Cyrus had someone on the inside.”
The warmth drained away as she pulled out of his arms and rolled onto her stomach, staring down at him. “Wait. She’s working for Cyrus like a-a spy?”
He shrugged.
“But that’s what you’re thinking?” she pushed.
His half-hearted nod made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight.
“Why would Finn be okay with this?”
He shrugged again. “Dante said she was helping Jessa. Her well-being is all that matters to Finn.” A slight furrow marred his brow as his gaze dipped, skimming her neck and shoulder. He ran a hand over his face and sat up. “We’ll know soon enough. We landed.”
Olivia froze. True, the steady roar of the engine and low vibration had stopped. She sat up, tugging the sheet around her, and watched as Mal pull on the pants he’d discarded earlier. Words rushed up, clogging her throat. In a few minutes, he’d walk out, and she might never have the chance to say all the things she wanted to.
He tied his boots and stood, his dark gaze meeting hers. “What?”
She shook her head.
His eyes narrowed. “Nervous?”
She nodded.
“Don’t be.” His tone was soothing.
“Everything I’ve ever known is gone. I’m going to a strange place, full of strangers, possibly a bad guy—er, girl—to be left.” She tossed off the sheet, stooping to collect her clothing. “Oh, and don’t forget about the full-moon skin-tearing wolf-monster thing I get to experience.” She tugged on her white trucker T-shirt. “You’re right, no reason to be nervous. None, whatsoever.”
Mal sighed. “I didn’t mean—”
“You’re going to sigh at me?” She jerked the sweatpants tight.
Mal’s hands covered hers, working the knot free and tying it more comfortably at her waist. His fingers grazed her stomach, leaving her tingling. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Not right away,” she interrupted, suddenly breathless.
His hands settled at her waist. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
She looked up at him, the heat in his gaze stealing some of her anger. “Step one?”
“Meeting Finn and his pack.” One of his hands slid under her shirt to stroke the skin of her stomach.
She shivered, her body tightening with instant yearning. One touch and she was lost, swaying into him. As distractions went, it worked well. When his hand slid up to cradle her breast, she was gasping. The light flick of his thumb against the erect tip had her holding onto him. A broken groan slipped from his mouth, inflaming her even more.
“This isn’t normal male-female wolf interaction, is it?” she asked.
Hs stiffened. “Did Dante—does he make you want him?”
She blinked, surprised by the razor-sharp edge of his voice. “In the twenty minutes he was shot and bleeding and mostly unconscious? No. So far, you’re the only that makes me like this.”
He blew out a deep breath and stepped back, his gaze searching her face.
Was he disappointed? “Is that what you want?” she whispered. “For me to feel this way with someone else?”
“No.” He bit the word out, so harsh Olivia jumped. “Let’s go.” He clasped her wrist and led her from the room, not bothering to turn back—or release her.
Olivia couldn’t stop her smile then. He might not be happy about the effect she had on him. But he wasn’t denying it. And that was a good place to start.