PLAY OF PASSION

She wrapped her arms around him and didn’t protest when he rose with her in his embrace, unwilling to do this on the cold earth, no matter that the pine needles provided a thick mattress. Bold and unashamed, she took his mouth with the passion of a woman who knew what she wanted … and the man she wanted it with. It was becoming impossible to have any kind of a rational thought, but he broke the kiss, put her on her feet by the fire. “Wait.”


Stretching her arms above her head, she teased him with the promise of her body as he pulled her sleeping bag open, unzipped it, and laid it on top of his. There, he thought, that would be softer on her back. She jumped to crouch on it even as he finished, having used the discarded towel to clean off the bottoms of her feet. Her playful mood still apparent, she said, “You’re wearing too many clothes,” and reached for the button at the top of his fly.





CHAPTER 23


He didn’t stop her, though the sight, the touch of her fingers so close to his aching cock was torture. Button undone, she tugged him forward, pushed. He sprawled backward onto the sleeping bags, spreading his legs to give her room as she came to kneel in between. But she didn’t lower his zipper.

No, she bent her head, and—continuing to hold the searing eye contact—pressed her lips to the very top of his groin, a bare centimeter above the pulsing thickness of his erection. Groaning, he clenched his hand in her hair and tugged her up. She came … to give him a bone-tingling kiss.

“I’m not the only one who’s overdressed,” he said against her lips.

“How remiss of me.” Her smile was full of pure sensual temptation as she reached down and pulled the T-shirt he’d given her—the T-shirt that had covered her in his scent—off over the top of her head.

His mouth dried up, his brain cells scrambled like so much spaghetti.

Dear God but she was stunning, her breasts lush against the toned and sleekly muscular build of a woman who was a SnowDancer lieutenant. Her skin was lightly tanned, her nipples darker, the plane of her abdomen having the slightest curve that he had every intention of laving with his tongue before moving lower to nuzzle those dark curls that hid the moist, earthy scent of her desire. He’d part her delicate folds and stroke and lick and pet until she screamed his name.

As he watched, entranced, she shifted back to her position between his knees and began to tug at the tab of his zipper. He sucked in a breath, sucked in his abdomen, and hoped he wouldn’t fucking embarrass himself. Lights flashed behind his closed eyelids as his erection sprang mercifully free, and he felt more than heard Indigo urge him to lift up his body so she could tug off his jeans.

Opening his eyes, he obeyed, and the jeans went flying somewhere to the side. Indigo put her hands on his thighs, her gaze on his erection. “I want to …” she began, but he reached down and pulled her up.

The damp heat of her stroked over his abdomen and he had to grit his teeth to keep from blowing like the Fourth of July. “I get to taste you first.” He squeezed her hips. “Then I get to do it again.”

She was straddling him, her knees on either side of his chest. When he urged her higher, her eyes went huge. “Like this?”

A chuckle broke its way through the sensual haze. “Don’t tell me I’ve shocked the unshockable lieutenant.”

“I should’ve expected you’d know all sorts of debauched things.” But she obeyed him and shifted up … until all he had to do was hold her in place with his grip on her thighs, draw in the dark heat of her passion, and lap at what he’d been aching to taste.

Indigo’s spine arched at the first touch, and she realized the damn wolf had her in a steely grip, would not allow her to wriggle away. The pleasure was excruciating. Her claws sliced out of her skin. She fought to pull them back in, failed. “No more.” She’d been hungry too long, and it only took a few wicked caresses to have her body riding a near-painful edge. “Drew.”

He let her escape with one final lick. His eyes were pure wolf. “Next time,” he said in a voice gone husky and deep and in no way human, “you’re going to lie still until I’ve finished tasting you.”

A growl rumbled in the back of her throat. “Am I?”

“Fair’s fair.”

Her wolf didn’t understand his logic, its mind too torn with the hunger for the most intimate, most luscious, of skin privileges. “What?” Sliding down his body, she brushed herself against the velvet steel of his arousal.

Drew’s abdomen was taut as rock under her palms, his cock even more rigid. “Because,” he said in that gravelly, inhuman voice, “I’ll lie here and let you do whatever you want, too.”