Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)(31)
“So what happens then? I mean, you said he’s at his most vulnerable, but what if I fail to kill him? Can you kill him?” Her body trembled. She was finally scared. It was a good start.
He reached up to stroke Morgan’s cheek. “No, I can’t, not a full werewolf anyway. Those who have been bitten, who’ve not yet to complete the full transformation, will fall under my sword. But only the Huntress can kill the beast, whether it’s Lazarus himself she faces, or one of his minions. The Hunter is only there to protect and support the Huntress. I can wound him, but I can’t kill him. That burden falls on you.” He lowered his hand to her collarbone, resting it there, flat against her flesh.
“But what happens if I can’t?”
Cal’s gaze strayed from her eyes to her lips, and he inched closer. She snaked her tongue out and dabbed her bottom lip, a gesture that had his body pulling taut with desire. Such a small action—that pink, little tongue darting out. So benign under normal circumstances and yet his body responded as if it was his cock that her tongue had touched. He shifted his eyes to meet hers, so consumed with wanting that he almost forgot to answer her.
“You can and you will.”
Her eyes darkened and she licked her lips again, this time moving closer to him, inviting him with her proximity to touch her. She laid her hand on his thigh, mere inches from his growing erection, and he shuddered as a pulse of urgent need raced through his entire body.
“Cal?” she whispered, her tone matching the desire he was feeling.
She slanted her lips up as he brought his down, plunging his tongue past the plump gates to her warm mouth and entangling hers with his. She tasted so sweet, felt so deliciously warm that he plundered deeper, kissing her with the urgency of his need, devouring her from the inside out. With a groan, he lifted her onto his lap, resting her ass to cover his hard cock where it strained against the prison of his pants. It took all of his willpower not to thrust against her. Even through the clothing, he so desperately wanted to feel that resistance, to let her know how much he wanted her.
She matched his urgency with her mouth, her tongue working his with the same pulsing need, the same desire. When he lifted his hand to caress her breast, to strum her already puckered nipple through the soft cotton of her T-shirt, she moaned again, arching into him, encouraging him to tease her more.
He slid his hand down, leaving her breast to rest on her hip, testing, waiting for resistance. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, pressing her full breasts up against his chest so that he could feel her hard nipples rubbing him. He lifted her hands away, pulling his mouth from hers, and ignoring her cry as he quickly spun her around until she straddled him with her ass pressing fully against his cock. He bit back a moan as he ran his fingers through her smooth hair, shifting it to the side to give him better access as he dabbed his tongue along the beautiful arch of her throat and latched onto her earlobe. She groaned with pleasure, titling her head, giving him more of her flesh.
He reached around to cup her breast again, loving the heavy fullness as he kneaded it, bringing his fingers across to pinch her nipple again and again. She writhed against him, pushing her ass down to rub his cock, pumping him with delicious friction, driving him mad with want. He slid his other hand to her jeans so he could pop the button and quickly slip his hand past the elastic of her panties. She arched into him as he cupped her there, reveling in the heat, the wetness before slipping two fingers deep inside of her.
She gasped at the penetration and then moaned when he started to slowly pump her, using her juices to wet the nub of her clit, rubbing with his thumb as his fingers, encased firmly within her sheath, began to stroke with more urgency. She rode him too, arching into his hand, pushing her ass against his erection.
He wanted her. Wanted to take her right then and there, push her back, rip her clothes from her body and pound the living hell out of her until they both cried out with satisfaction. But she deserved more, wanted more from him. With one last thrust, she came, her * spasming, clenching around his fingers, pulling him deeper within. His longing to slip his cock into her, to mark her as his own and bond with his Huntress, was so intense that he almost did the unthinkable—he almost followed his heart.
As reason and reality flooded through his mind, he pulled away, slowly removed his hand from her breast, and slid his fingers from her hot core. He helped her shift from his lap, adjusting his uncomfortable erection. He kissed her one last time, claiming her mouth with such desperation that he felt her breath hitch.
He pulled away and she looked at him, her mouth puffy from the ferocity of his kiss, her eyes hooded with her desire and her satisfaction.
“I can’t make promises to you that I won’t keep, Morgan. I can’t give you what you want. You have to know that I will protect you, I will be your Hunter in every possible way, but I cannot love you.”
Morgan looked as though she couldn’t understand his words for a moment, a puzzled frown pulling her forehead down into a vee. And then as it sunk in, her face crumbled, a blush spread over her cheeks. Her eyes flashed with anger, then sorrow. “I don’t understand, Cal.”
His heart thudded painfully. He reached over to touch her cheek, regretting what he’d said but knowing that he had to say it. “I am a coward, just as you said. I know you don’t understand, and I wish I could explain it to you properly, but it’s the way it has to be. I can’t fall in love with you.”