Tangle of Need

Her wolf had never adored Martin as it adored the black wolf with the golden eyes.

Leaning down until his face was a bare inch away, his breath hot against her skin, Riaz said, “Because it’s too late for that, and you’re not the casual type. You never have been. Just like me.” Crushed rocks and broken glass in his voice.

It was instinct to curve her hand over his nape, to pet him as he’d petted her. He let her touch him, let her claim skin privileges that were becoming ever more complicated. She’d thought she’d figured everything out in Venice, but tonight, what he’d done, it had touched the secret, idealistically hopeful part of her she’d allowed no one to reach for so long, it was a forgotten memory. The fact he’d already done so, when their relationship had hardly begun, it had her stomach in knots, her heart thumping against her ribs.

And then there was his dominance.

He spread his hand on her throat just then, curving it in a gentle hold. “What’re you thinking that’s got your wolf so wary?” he asked in a low murmur, rocking once against the molten heat of her.

She twisted up in instinctive response, had the pleasure of hearing him hiss out a breath between clenched teeth. But though he stroked his hand down to lie possessively over her unfettered breast, he didn’t take the next step, the one that would’ve left them tangled and sweat soaked. “I got used to bending,” she admitted, fighting her pride to expose what a fool she’d been.

“With Martin. I had to bend to make him happy.” It had taken place so slowly, she hadn’t understood the corrosive ugliness of what was happening. Small things, she’d thought, things that didn’t really matter—after all, the man had risked everything to save her life. Until she’d realized she’d begun to bury Adria to please Martin. “He was nowhere near as strong as you.”

Riaz snorted. “You’ve been busting my balls since the instant we met—I sure as hell don’t think you’re suddenly going to flutter your lashes and simper at my every word.”

Wolf and woman both blinked at the ridiculous image. “It’s not that simple.” She tried to find the words to explain. “Martin made me weak … No. That’s not fair.” There had been two people in that relationship. “I weakened myself to make him happy. I’m terrified I’ll do the same with you.” That was her flaw, no one else’s.

Molding her breast with strong fingers, Riaz leaned down to take her lower lip between his teeth, releasing it oh-so-slow. “So you want to end things before they begin?” A harder squeeze, a deeper hint of teeth along her jaw. “That’s the real weakness.”

She dug her claws into his back when he bit her again. “Do that one more time and I’ll give you a nice new tattoo.”

Lips curving against her neck. “Yeah.” His clean-shaven jaw was smooth over her skin. “I’m not real worried about you bending for me.” Pushing up into a kneeling position straddling her hips, he ripped off his T-shirt and threw it to the floor before coming down over her, hands on either side of her head. “Open your mouth for me.”

“Is that a request or an order?”

A lazy smile that reached his eyes, his mouth capturing hers in hot demand. She rubbed her tongue against his, felt him growl deep in his chest. Shuddering, she pressed her hands to his chest, his muscled body hers to explore. But when she ran her knuckles down the tantalizing line of hair below his belly button and to the top of the jeans that hung sexily low on his hips, he only allowed her to open the top button before tugging away her hand.

“I get to play first.”

He’d ripped her T-shirt to shreds and was tugging off her pajama bottoms and panties before she realized she was his intended toy. Not resistant to the idea and with a few of her own, she pressed a foot to his chest the instant she was bare to the skin. “Get naked.” Very much an order. “I want full skin privileges.” She craved the sweet, hot slide of his body against hers, the hard male angles and delicious weight of him.

A kiss pressed to her foot, and suddenly, she was being flipped onto her front, the cold metal of his zipper biting into her as he settled his weight over her, his cock a hard outline. “No.” Hot denial in her ear, one big hand shoving under her body to tease and tug at her nipple. “I think I’ll be the boss today.”

Chapter 46

“RIAZ.” IT WAS a warning, her claws slicing into the sheets.

Chuckling, he laved a kiss on her nape and—to her surprise—obeyed her unspoken demand, rising onto his haunches, his thighs on either side of her hips. Just when she was about to turn over, he put his hands on her back and began to massage downward from her shoulders, his hands strong, his fingers knowing. She moaned.

By the time he got to the base of her spine, she’d given up even the vaguest thoughts of rebellion. “You have two dimples here.” A wet, luscious kiss to each that made her moan.

Apparently fascinated by the spot, he licked each dimple, rubbed his cheek against her skin. “I shaved especially for you.”

Her toes curled. “I appreciate it.” Though she was in no way averse to the rough scrape of his stubble, it melted her that he’d taken the time.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get my payment.”

Her heart thudded, every inch of her very aware she was in bed with a big, dangerous wolf who wanted to do distinctly erotic things to her. When he lifted his head, silken strands of hair sliding over her skin, she expected him to get off the bed, remove his jeans, but he stayed in place, moving his hand down to shape and caress her lower curves. “I can scent you, so wet and ready.”

The musk of the woman beneath him acted as a drug on Riaz’s senses, the slickness of her pure provocation when he circled the entrance to her body with a single finger.

“Riaz.” Not a warning this time. An invitation, her sweet curves rising to follow his touch.

Loving her so soft and pleasured, he shifted to kneel lower down her body, unzipping and shoving his jeans down enough to release his cock with a hiss of pleasure-pain. Squeezing his turgid flesh, he fought for control, found enough to caress his hands over her hips. “Up, Empress.”

“Empress?” She brought up her knees in a fluid slide, rising so her back pressed into his chest at the same moment.

The blunt head of his cock already bathed in her slickness, he simply flexed his hips and pushed into her with slow, exquisitely pleasurable deliberation. “Queen,” he grit out, fingers digging into her hips, “doesn’t seem enough.”

“Sweet talker.” His lover’s nails made tiny half-moon crescents on his thighs, her breathing ragged, her back arched, thrusting her breasts forward in sensual display.

Growling, he reached around to close his hands over the plump mounds. “Do what you will.”

She moved on him, squeezing and releasing, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Flicking one taut nipple in a way that always made her clench around him, he slid a hand down to fondle and tease the slippery nub of her clitoris.

“Riaz!” She spasmed around him in a burst of molten pleasure that ripped a scream out of her. But when she tried to ride him to completion, he dropped his free hand to grip her thigh, halting her.

“You’re my toy, remember?” This wasn’t just about sex, and he wouldn’t allow her to forget it.

“Then play with me.” She turned her face to demand a kiss.

Pleased at her trust, he gave her that kiss, and more, petting and caressing and indulging before he dropped his hand to her clit again. Playing with the hard little bundle of nerves until she was grinding her body against him in wild need, her breasts heavy and sensitive to his every touch, he took hold of her hips.

“Slow”—he lifted her off his cock, teeth clenched against the need to pound—“and deep”—he slid her back down to her long, hot moan—“and so wet.”

This time he lifted her until the head of his cock popped out. Pushing past her passion-swollen entrance