Call of the Highland Moon

“Is this close enough for you?” The question was teasing, but Carly’s voice was breathless. His silent answer was to pull her down onto his lap to straddle him, so that her full, swollen breasts were just in the right position.



“Oh,” she gasped as Gideon lowered his head to take one taut nipple into his mouth, flicking and swirling his tongue against it, then giving it a long, hard pull. Savoring her soft moans, Gideon gave the other nipple the same treatment as Carly sank down to settle firmly against him, arching back with pleasure when her hips moved against him in that first tentative rub. Then it was Gideon’s turn to moan as she pushed against him again, the rough denim of Gideon’s jeans against the silk of her thong creating hot friction for both of them. Gideon gritted his teeth, the need to be inside her threatening to consume every part of him.



“Not yet, not nearly.” He began to grind a slow rhythm against her, drinking in the way Carly’s eyes went blurry, the gasping moan she gave as her head tipped back. Submission. He felt it in every fiber of his being, felt his incisors lengthening for the bite he’d sworn not to give her. He couldn’t have her that way, but he could take her every other way he knew how. And he would make it be enough.



Carly’s nails raked up his sides as she dragged his shirt off, her hips still moving restlessly against him, trying to quicken the pace even as Gideon forced her to climb in excruciating slowness. “I need to feel you,” she hissed. “God, Gideon, I need …”



“Not yet,” he gritted out, in one smooth motion flipping her onto the bed to lie before him, legs spread, an irresistible invitation. She arched, her voice pleading, those perfect breasts thrusting toward him.



“I want you inside me. Now.” It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. One he would be happy to oblige … soon.



“And I want to taste you. Now.” He moved between her legs, lowering his head to kiss a hot path down her stomach, pausing to flick his tongue into the tiny cup of her navel, enjoying the music of Carly’s soft moans while she writhed beneath him. She was so sweet, his Carly, Gideon thought as he tasted her, sweeter even than her scent had promised. He licked lower, swirling his tongue over the warm satin of her skin until he reached the thong. And still, he didn’t remove it, kissing over it, inhaling the sweet, exotic scent of her until he reached the damp material stretched over the swollen heat of her.



God, she was wet for him. Carly pushed up against his mouth with a ragged moan, and Gideon suddenly wanted nothing more than to give her this, to see her come apart while he tasted the rich honey of her. He slipped a finger under the edge of her panties, his own breath quickening when he felt how damp she was for him, how ready. He slipped one finger, then another into her tight sheath, at first thrusting gently, then more forcefully as Carly demanded it, clenching her small hands in the sheets at her sides and begging for more, harder. All the while his tongue remained against thin satin, teasing the swollen bud of her sex, flicking his tongue against it, pausing to suck at it. Her hips pulsed against him of their own accord, faster and faster as she rushed toward her climax, toward the inevitable edge. Gideon paused, then pushed her over.



He slammed his fingers up into her and rubbed his tongue hard against her. Carly cried out over and over, his name, her whole body arching off the bed with the force of her orgasm. Gideon heard his own guttural groan, watching with primal satisfaction what he had done to her … needing more.



The wolf snapped again. And this time, the tether snapped along with it.



t t t



Carly lay immobile, barely hearing the rustle of material as Gideon moved to shove off his jeans. She hadn’t known you could have a full-body orgasm, but that’s exactly what this felt like. Like her blood was full of lightning, filling every inch of her with surging, pulsing waves of sensation. She didn’t know what was next, couldn’t believe that there could possibly be anything more than this that he could do to her, that he could make her feel.



Except she had a sneaking suspicion that Gideon did know, and he was about to show her. She watched him rise above her, like some rough pagan god. He simply took her breath away; he always did. Every inch of his skin was dusky bronze and covered rock-hard muscle. There was a sprinkle of black, curling hair across his chest, tapering down to his hard, rippling stomach, and the thick, hard length of him, big enough that Carly wasn’t exactly sure what kind of a fit they’d make.



She was suddenly consumed with the desire to find out.



She loved seeing what she’d done to him, loved seeing that he was as affected as she was. Gideon’s breathing was ragged, the thick waves of his hair tousled around his face, and his eyes … Carly could see now that he watched her through the eyes not of a human, but of a wolf, yellow, hungry.



And all hers.



She rose up on her elbows, spread wide for him, her heart beating wildly, her short breaths matching his. “Now,” she hissed.



He pounced, entering her in one smooth stroke that filled her completely, and she knew she cried out against his mouth as it crushed against hers, sucking, biting, tongues mating even as he pumped rhythmically into her. They rolled like animals across the bed, snarling as nails raked tender flesh, as teeth scored across sensitive skin to blend pain with pleasure in a rush of pure, unbridled lust. Carly sank her teeth into Gideon’s shoulder, savoring his grunt of satisfaction, rocking her hips against his as she continued to rush, once again, toward her peak.



“Turn over,” he growled, his voice so rough she could barely understand. But she did as she was told, strangely excited by the change in him, by the half-wild, animalistic power of him. So she rolled to her belly, breasts pressed against the bed as Gideon hooked his fingers into her hips and dragged her up against him, entering her in one hard thrust that had her giving a small scream as he filled every inch of her with throbbing, rigid heat.



He wasn’t gentle. Carly no longer wanted him to be. Her hands clutched the covers in front of her as he hung on to her, slamming into her in quick, hard strokes that rocked the bed with their force. Gideon’s rough breathing, rushing out in rhythmic pants, was driving her crazy. She was so wet, so tight around him, tensing with hot, aching need every time he filled her. She was so close…



He growled, loudly, helplessly, his thrusts wilder as he came undone. Carly felt her own body tightening, instinctively responding to Gideon’s need. Teetering on the edge, she felt Gideon’s thumb press hard against her. She gasped, arched, and pressed back into Gideon as she felt the slow, sensory implosion of her orgasm begin to rocket through her, flexing in tight pulses around him. Carly tossed her head back, riding the wave of shimmering sensation, blind with pleasure. She had never known it could be like this.



Gideon’s guttural cry of release came right after her own as he gave one last hard thrust, holding her tight against him as he came in a hot rush. They stayed frozen that way for a minute that seemed to spin out into an eternity while Gideon spent himself, then, finally, withdrew from her, letting her sink slowly down into the softness of her mattress and curl onto her side. Boneless. Weightless. Perfect.



She felt Gideon fit himself against her back, felt the wild hammering of his heart that matched her own, and smiled lazily, her eyes at half mast. He might have been out-of-this-world amazing in bed, but she’d done a hell of a job keeping up, if that was any indication.



She heard a long, contented sigh behind her. Gideon slid his hand around to rest across the flat of her stomach, their skin a study in contrasts, dark over light.



“Gideon,” she murmured softly, not a question, not even an invitation to conversation. Just his name, infused with the beauty of everything he’d just made her feel. She was gone over him. And there was no turning back now, not that she’d ever want to, come what may.



A gift, she thought, drifting slowly towards sleep wrapped in his arms, marveling sleepily at the way she seemed made to fit into him. For the first time in perhaps her whole life, Carly felt truly, deeply content, with a lovely stillness inside. Tonight there was nothing, and no one, but the two of them.



He really was amazing, Carly mused. Amazing, and gorgeous, and strong.



And snoring.



At least it was quiet. But Gideon was awfully lucky he was as far in her good graces as he was, because she had never voluntarily spent the night with a man snoring, however quietly, into her ear.



She snuggled more deeply into his warmth, neither needing nor wanting the comforter. Before letting sleep take her completely, she whispered the words that filled her, the ones that now seemed forever etched on her heart.



“I love you, Gideon.”



And then she slept, never knowing that Gideon’s eyes opened just as hers slipped shut, full of longing, and sadness.



And the love he couldn’t help but return.



t t t



In the bitter winter darkness, a lone gray wolf crouched. It listened to the contented sighs of two new lovers drifting off to sleep, and bared its teeth in horrific pleasure.



It was nearly time. And then, there would be so much beautiful pain, real screams to silence the ones that never seemed to cease within his mind.



He could hardly wait to begin.



Chapter Eleven



SHE WOKE UP JUST BEFORE THE ALARM, AS WAS HER habit. But this morning, unlike every other morning of her life, Carly felt almost no incentive to get out of bed whatsoever. She reached over to hit the button that would cancel this morning’s scheduled round of obnoxious beeping, then reluctantly flicked the ringer on the phone back on. She couldn’t stay disconnected to the outside world forever, after all, tempting though the idea might be.



For these few moments, though, Carly could pretend. She lay there quietly, enjoying the feeling of waking up with Gideon wrapped around her.



Her limbs were deliciously tired, her skin feeling like it had been sprinkled with fairy dust. It was, she knew, although not from any experience she’d ever had before, the feeling that one only got from being well used by one’s lover. She grinned sleepily to herself. She had a lover. Who would have thought? A big, handsome werewolf lover with, as he’d demonstrated three more times last night, stamina to burn. And he was so … inventive. She was pretty sure her mother, father, brothers, and the entire Italian Catholic community of northern New York would be horrified beyond words.