wolf’s senses, he heard the acceleration of her heart. He shook his head. “No.”

He turned to face her, laying one arm across the back of the seat, gripping it with one hand. The other he lifted to touch her, gliding softly down the side of her face, down her neck, stroking once, twice across her collarbone. She shivered and he smiled at her response.

“You’re not as immune to me as you try to pretend.”

“I never said I was,” she whispered.

“In a million little ways, you have. You go to great lengths to keep me at a distance, Gia.”

His fingers moved to the exposed swell of her breasts, then along the edge of the corset. He drifted up to trace the petals on one of the flowers and she froze, breath caught for a moment at the contact. He liked the reaction. How would she respond if he tasted her? He bent his head to do just that when she jerked away and spoke.

“Hey, I already made you an offer. You turned me down. Remember?”

He straightened, knew there was a touch of bitterness to his laugh. “You know damned well you weren’t serious.”

She was not going to use that against him. They’d both been grumpy after days of chasing a rogue wolf. Snappy and exhausted, snarling at each other for hours, and cooped up in a car together. It was not a day he remembered fondly. She went very still again, then stood and started to walk away. Fuck. Now what? Why had she even brought it up? Just to have an excuse to push him away? Pausing, she spoke without turning to face him.

“You’re wrong about that. I was dead serious.”

She didn’t hesitate this time when she walked away, stride long and hurried. Oh hell no. He wasn’t about to let her retreat. He caught her before she reached the turn in the porch.

Grabbing her elbow, he spun her around to face him and kissed her before she could protest, before she could try to take the words back. His tongue swept into her mouth with no resistance. When it touched hers, she moaned, pressed against him, and went so limp he grabbed her quickly. But he didn’t have to worry. She hung onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, while her body pressed against his. Her belly rubbed against his throbbing erection. He liked, no loved, the direction this was going, but he was damned if the first time he had her was outside on a porch. She whined when he broke the kiss. She wanted him. If his cock wasn’t throbbing so hard, almost painfully, he would have smiled.

“I need a bed. I need you naked. And horizontal,” he panted.

“No.” She shook her head. “Out here. The moon is so beautiful tonight.”

She took his hand and tugged until he followed her down the stairs to the yard to a cushioned lounge chair that sheltered under a huge oak tree. He knew it was a favorite spot of hers, having spotted her there many times through the summer and fall.

She pushed him onto the chair then straddled his waist with a sigh and a soft murmur even his greater hearing couldn’t make out. But then there was no need to hear or even think. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his skin, following with her tongue. She closed her teeth around his nipple and tugged.

He was harder than he’d ever been and close to losing control when she shifted her lower body to press against him. He set his hands on her thighs, gliding up slowly under the skirt while she pressed biting kisses across his chest to his other nipple. As she flicked her tongue over it, he slid his fingers under the edge of her panties, moved to stroke over her clit. She trembled and ordered in a ragged whisper, “harder.”

Gladly. He didn’t know what had caused this sudden change, but he sure as hell liked it and planned to do plenty more of it. The panties had to go, however. He gripped her hips and lifted her to stand next to him, then also stood. He walked around her and found the zipper on the skirt, slid it down so she could shimmy out of it and tug off her undergarment. Then he unstrapped the plates on his legs, letting them fall to the ground before pulling off the stupid loincloth he’d been convinced to wear and lay back down.

Bare from the waist down, Gia moved backed into position. Would he want her to remove the corset? It was tight and restricting, concealed her nipples and she’d really like him to play with them, but it made her feel sexy and wanton. Emotions she’d never felt and she liked it, wanted it to last as long as possible.

He didn’t touch the front zipper on the garment. Instead his hand returned to her pussy, now exposed to the cool air and his gaze.

“When I have more time…” He let the thought trail off and she wondered what he was promising for later. If he was. She would have asked, but his fingers were pushing into her cunt, his thumb rubbing circles over her clit, and the power of speech failed her. She moved with him, urging him into faster, harder strokes, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out when the orgasm rushed over her.

And then he was lifting her, rearranging her so his cock could thrust up into her. His thumb was back on her clit, his thrusts deeper, harder. Better. Infinitely better than anything her fevered imagination could come up with.

She tried to fight it, to draw it out. Her head fell back, eyes closed, as she struggled with the sensations. He replaced his thumb with two fingers, squeezing a little, rolling her clit between them. She started to shake, knew there was no more delaying the orgasm.

“Look at me,” he demanded and what she saw in his eyes only seemed to intensify

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