Wolf Slayer (The Order of the Wolf, #2)(26)
Her feet left the ground and she barely noticed. Who needed the ground when she had this?
One of his hands plunged into her hair, angling her head for better access, as the other gripped her hip and ground her harder against the long, delicious length of his erection. Oh my. Her thighs clenched involuntarily. Yes, please.
His teeth found her lower lip, the bite just shy of too hard, and she heard herself making noises she’d never heard before—high, breathy and feminine pants of need. Then his teeth were skimming the side of her throat and she tipped her face back to stare up at the lattice of black branches above, exposing her neck to him in perfect submission. She who had never submitted to anyone but the Alpha. His teeth scored deeper at the junction of her neck and shoulder and a rough gasp wrenched between her lips. Holy Hades, that spot. It was like a one-way ticket to her G-spot. If she hadn’t already been wet and aching, that bite alone would have done it. She was ready, so unbelievably ready…
Then he was spinning them, pinning her back to the coarse bark of a nearby tree, the scent of crushed pine bark rising up to mix with the tangled scents of lust, Roman’s shaved-cedar-sunshine musk…
…and beneath it all the faintest echo of scent on his clothes, barely-there traces of a cloying, medicinal sweet-and-sour tang…
A tang that triggered something violent and terrified deep inside her. No.
She threw out her hands, struggling with more panic than skill or finesse, but as soon as Roman sensed her resistance, he backed away, probably scenting the sudden surge of fear on her, his hands over his head in a gesture of innocence that was five minutes too late to be believable.
As soon as she wasn’t drowning in his scent, the panic fled—replaced by a heavy weight of realization.
Holy Hades. She’d kissed Roman. They’d almost done a lot more. If she hadn’t come to her senses, God only knew what they’d be doing now. What part of her he’d be nibbling on, caressing…
Not a helpful line of thinking, Patch.
She didn’t know what had triggered her freak-out—that scent, the horrible wrongness of it—but she was damn glad something had woken her up to what she was doing. Sure, she’d wanted to kiss Roman since she’d discovered boys, but he was Lila’s. She would never betray her best friend like that.
Except for the fact that she just had. Crap.
“Patch…” From the expression on Roman’s face, he was just as horrified by what they’d done as she was.
“The heat,” she blurted, insanely grateful for the excuse. It couldn’t have just been her wanting him like she wanted to keep breathing. Not if she ever wanted to be able to look her best friend’s husband in the eye. “It was just the heat. My bad. No hard feelings.”
He lowered his hands from his stick-em-up stance, shifting uncomfortably, and she realized he probably had some very hard feelings left over from their little bout of insanity.
Don’t look. Do. Not. Look.
She looked. And he was just as big as she’d felt. Just as deliciously hard. Oh, have mercy.
“I—” She didn’t know what she would have said. I have to go? I-need-you-take-me-now? I can’t ever see you again? I want to lick you like a lollipop and swallow you whole? Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The words clogged in her throat and she gave up on pushing them past the shame.
She couldn’t meet his eyes. Didn’t want to know what color they were when they were drenched in need.
Taking a page out of Lila’s book, Patch ran.
Do not pass Go. Do not look back. Do not shift because the cat will say yes, no matter how badly she needs to say no. Patch ran.
Thank God he didn’t follow her. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d tried to come after her. To chase her down. If he’d caught her…
Images crashed against one another in her brain, half-baked fantasies springing instantly to life. Roman catching her, those muscled arms sweeping her off her feet, taking her to the ground, his weight riding her down, hands stripping away her clothing, caressing, always just on that perfect borderline of too rough. So strong. So dominant. Leaving no question of whom she belonged to, body and soul.
Holy Hades.