Wolf Song (Wolf Song Trilogy #1)(9)
But she raised her chin off his chest and stared at his lips. Her tongue darted out to wet her own. The wolf growled. Or maybe he did. Kiss. Yeah. Start there.
He had to slow it down or he’d break his promise to her. He’d have her on all fours, moaning and groaning—and not necessarily with pleasure—while he grunted and sweated on top of her. Plunging his cock in and out of her. Hard. Fast. Without preparing her or getting her ready for him. Without foreplay of any kind.
He touched the plump curve of her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, the simple gesture a teasing caress. She parted her lips and closed her eyes. He leaned forward and bent his head to hers. Goddess. Mother of the Moon. The scent of honeyed musk berries intoxicated him. His head whirled.
His mouth came down over hers, wreaking havoc with his good intentions. After the first instant of sweet shock, hesitant exploration gave way to sheer excitement. She returned his kiss with hunger, her tongue sweeping against his. And then he took possession, the kiss long and deep. Going hard. The way he wanted to be inside her. Not quite claiming. Not yet. But every instinct rose to the fore until he’d dwarfed her, engulfed her with his body, completely dominating her. He smelled himself on her, like an identification stamp obliterating any other stops on her passport.
“Don’t play big, bad alpha with me,” she murmured, her lips vibrating against his.
He gulped a breath. “Can’t help it.” Wow. Where the hell had that come from? But he recognized the unwanted truth smacking him over the head like a two-by-four. He. Could. Not. Help. It.
“Well….” Whatever she meant to say faded against the surging strength of his next kiss, more hungry, more powerful, more necessary to him than the last. “Okay.”
He forced himself to slow down again, to take a step back. To leash the beast. Rein in the rampant dominance to which she’d hesitantly, reluctantly acquiesced. Lifting his mouth away from hers, he rested his forehead against her brow, breathing heavily, nearly panting.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. Was he no better than that evil sonuvabitch Magnum Tao?
“Won’t force you to submit to me. Not ever. Don’t want that. Don’t want you that way.” He picked her up and she slung an arm around his neck for balance. He carried her to the shore, setting her down on the towel he’d brought from the cabin, handing her the clean shirt he’d also grabbed on his way out the door.
She didn’t use it to cover herself, though. Instead, she leaned against him. “You didn’t know.” A statement, not a question. “You didn’t know what you are.”
He shook his head. “Haven’t been around pack for ten years. Living up here, alone, wouldn’t see it, wouldn’t feel it. Wouldn’t recognize it.”
“You are what you are, Brick. An alpha. A strong alpha.”
“When I left Los Lobos, I was just a stupid pup. Couldn’t even drink legally.”
“I saw you when Gee brought you here. Saw the condition you were in. Makes sense now. You tried to challenge your pack leader for dominance, didn’t you?”
Were they doing this? Having a more or less normal conversation with the wolf nearly bursting out of his skin, howling to get laid? He’d kinda missed that, too, though. He’d never talked to anyone—not even Gee—about the night he’d gone all berserker in The Den and ended up banished. A lone wolf. A rogue wolf. Not belonging anywhere.
“Didn’t think it was a dominance play. Didn’t know what the f*ck I was doing.”
She turned, sitting next to him and drawing up her knees to mirror his posture, but sidling close enough to embrace him. The sides of their thighs met as she leaned into him. She curved her arm around him, running one hand up and down his back, her touch comforting, soothing. “I think you did.”
“Well…maybe. Not in a conscious way. I just wanted to be rid of that stinking piece of crap.”
“He’s gone now, you know.”
Yeah. He knew. He’d seen Magnum’s death like a movie in his head years before, but never knew when or where it would happen. Gee’d advised him of the monster’s passing, had encouraged him to return to Los Lobos. Recent town gossip from Shady Heart on the other side of the mountain—with the ramped-up rumors flying about Cal Seven getting ready to make a move on the wolves’ territory—carried more confirmation the f*cker was gone. Good f*ckin’ riddance.
“Drew’s back. He’s the Black Hills Wolves alpha now. Didn’t Gee tell you?”
No, Gee hadn’t f*ckin’ told him. Although, scanning a replay of their last few convos, the hints were there, as if Gee had been trying to gauge his reaction, to both warn and advise him with his usual vague Yoda-speak wisdom, to bear-talk him docile. To make sure he didn’t challenge Drew. As. Fucking. If.
Especially not now—if war between the wolves and cats was about to break out—as he suspected.
Brick’s fists clenched and he rose to his feet, stepping closer to the water—and away from Summer—before he inadvertently did something to hurt her. He had no real quarrel with Magnum’s offspring—he’d wished for the prodigal son’s return even before the ill-fated challenge in The Den ten years ago that had seen him Oscar Mayer sausaged and banished from his pack. Well, yeah, sure, maybe he’d nursed a little resentment over junior leaving in the first place, instead of stepping up and seizing control of the pack from his maniac father.