Branded by Fire

Disappointment cut through her, a hot, biting wound. She hadn’t actually wanted him to fail. If she made it to the den before him, then she won, and though she might accept him back into her bed again, it would never be the same. Making a face, telling herself she wasn’t that upset—liar, liar—she continued through the trees.

A hundred meters on, she realized she couldn’t make a direct leap from tree to tree. Since Riley was way over in the wrong direction, she jumped off the branch and came to a crouching, catlike landing on the small clearing below.

A familiar hand closed around her throat from behind an instant later and she found herself hauled up against a firm, gorgeously male chest, his free arm clamping across her body to immobilize her own arms. Heat against her ear, the possessive brush of lips that she wanted to feel on every inch of her skin. “Gotcha.”

She reacted on instinct, kicking backward with her legs as she attempted to wrench her body loose. All that got her was a grunt and some rough swearing before she was pressed front-first to a tree trunk, her hands manacled behind her back, her shoulders immobilized by his arm, and her legs held in place by heavy male thighs. He’d left her just enough leeway that she could turn her head.

Both of them were breathing hard, their animals at the forefront, but she was very aware of one thing. Through it all, Riley had taken every care not to hurt her. Even now, he was pressing into her with a fraction less strength than he should’ve done if he really wanted to keep her contained.

Test not only passed, but aced.

Because this was a game. Hurting your partner wasn’t the aim. “Riley?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t break his hold, even as he pressed closer, his erection insistent against her lower back.

The tiny hairs on her body shivered in reaction. “I think you’re sexy.”

Riley narrowed his eyes at Mercy’s teasing comment. “I’m not trusting a word that comes out of that pretty mouth until you acknowledge my dominance.”

“If I do, will you use your pretty mouth to lick me between my legs?”

Christ Almighty! “Mercy, I’m this close to tearing off your pants and just mounting you.”

The lush tang of feminine arousal had flirted with the air since the moment he put his hand on her, but now it blanketed everything around them. The wolf rose to the surface. Lifting his arm off her shoulders, but pressing his chest against her back, he ran his lips over the shell of her ear. “Or is that what you want?”

CHAPTER 18

Her hands were close to his crotch and now one of those hands closed over his erection. “Bite me.”

“Okay.” He sank his teeth into the sensitive zone between neck and shoulder.

She jerked. “Fuck!” Her hand tightened on him and it felt so good, he almost came.

Reaching between them, he pried her fingers off with his free hand as he licked his tongue over the bite marks on her skin. “No playing down there. You might use claws.”

“I won’t.”

“Why not?” He kissed the spot he’d bitten, luxuriating in the clean, sexy, dangerous scent of her. Instead of growling, the wolf in him rolled around in it, demanding more.

Demanding she carry his scent pounded into her skin.

She angled her head slightly, giving him better access. His cock throbbed, his throat grew thick, but he held firm and avoided giving her what she wanted. Instead, he drew back. “Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, if you acknowledge my dominance, I’ll lick you between your thighs.” And this time, he’d take his time. “I’ll lick and suck and—”

“I yield.”

Everything stilled. He couldn’t believe he’d heard right. He’d expected a grudging acknowledgement of his dominance at most. But this . . . His wolf wanted to nip at her, pet her, make sure she knew he’d take every care of the gift she’d given him.

“Only for this, only now.”

The time limit changed nothing about the value of the gift. And it was a gift. One dominant females very rarely gave. “Accepted.” He released her hands and slammed them palms-down on the tree trunk. “Keep them there.”

“If I don’t?”

He slapped her lightly on the rump. “I don’t think you know what yielding means.”

A snarl lifted up into the air. “Hands off my butt.”

“Yeah?” Spreading his hand, he squeezed in a deliberate tease.

When she shuddered, he moved away and put his hands on her hips. That got him a growl but she stayed in place. Sliding his hands up under her T-shirt, he stroked them over the silky warmth of her skin to close over her breasts. The warm, sexy weight of her filled his palms, her nipples beaded against the fine cotton of her bra.

“Skin,” she ordered. “I want skin.”

Since that was what he wanted, too, he withdrew his hands and used his claws to shred the T-shirt and bra off her. Then he returned his attention to her breasts. She cried out as his hands found her again skin to skin. And he just about came from the tiny, rolling movements of her body.

Trembling with the fury of his desire, he buried his face in her neck. But only for an instant. He had a promise to keep. And it was one he most definitely wanted to keep. Pulling back, he tore off her jeans and panties, leaving her dressed in nothing but a pair of boots and socks. It was so damn erotic, he decided he’d have to lure her into the woods more often. “Spread your legs.”

“Make me.”

His lips curved, even as the stranglehold of sexual hunger grew ever tighter. Putting a hand on the inside of her thigh, he reached up with the other to pinch one beautiful nipple. She cried out, her attention shifting . . . and he used the opportunity to push at her thigh. She spread for him instinctively. Realizing what she’d done, she blew out a breath. “My nipple hurts.”

“Liar.” He’d meant to drop down behind her, but it was so tempting to stroke the taut, muscled curve of her butt that he delayed, indulging himself. “Want me to suck it for you?” He tugged at the aroused nub of flesh. “So pretty and red. Like my favorite raspberry lollypop.”

A choked-off sound. “Damn, Riley.”

He grinned at the shocked words. “What?” He didn’t wait for an answer, going to his knees behind her and angling his body so his shoulders kept her legs open for his mouth. But he didn’t touch. Not yet.

Keeping one hand on her thigh, he spread her with the fingers of the other . . . and blew a soft, hot breath over her. She cried out, her body clenching to release another rush of exquisite need. His tongue was there to meet it as he licked at her with long, lazy movements. He was determined to learn every little sensitive spot, every scent, every feminine cry.

Mercy closed her eyes, the better to savor the most incredible pleasure she’d ever felt. She was never ever going to accuse Riley of being uncreative again. The man had plenty of imagination. Plenty. His tongue was doing things to her that she knew were illegal somewhere, and —“Riley!” Her body shook under the force of a wickedly powerful orgasm as he closed his mouth over her clit, sucking hard.

He petted her thigh, calming her down . . . then stroked those same fingers over the excruciatingly sensitive flesh of her opening. She tried to squeeze her thighs closed, but his strong, muscular body kept them open while his mouth ravaged her. Those teasing fingers rubbed a little harder, and then one began to slide inside.

She opened her eyes, but saw only a wash of color as her brain tried to process the amount of sensation going through her body. It failed. Color exploded in every direction, and the muscles in her body went taut, her claws slicing out to pierce the tree trunk as she gave in to the wildness and rode the pleasure.

When she surfaced, it was to the feel of a hot, hard, and lusciously naked male body behind her own, one