Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)

His touch, his mouth, his tongue had my body humming. I was wet for him, my desire pulled taut. He hovered over me, resting his weight partially on one arm as he worked me into a frenzy of excitement and need. He kissed a trail back to my face, claiming my lips, exploring my mouth, stealing my breath again with his deep kiss.

I unknotted his towel and pulled it free, releasing his erection so that I could slide my hand down the length of him. I tried to encircle his penis with my fingers, but found that I couldn’t span its width. Instead, I wrapped my hand around him, covering what I could and slowly began to stroke, loving his strangled groan as he thrust into my hand, only allowing himself a few moments of pleasure before he pulled my hands away and brought them over my head so that I was stretched out next to him.

“Too much of that and I’ll be ending the mood prematurely,” he growled before capturing my lips once again.

He pulled my panties from my body, breaking from our kiss only long enough to rip them from my legs. He did the same with my bra, discarding it on the floor with the rest of my clothes. And now I was bare, totally free from limitations, completely exposed to his roving mouth and lustful eyes, and it made me shiver with excitement.

He slid his fingers down to my sex, stroking me, circling my clit with his fingers, bathing me in my own juices while he worshiped my body. I was so ready for him, building on a wave of pleasure so intense that I didn’t want it to stop.

“Please Cal,” I begged as I arched into his hand, wanting desperately for him to fill me, to take that growing need and push me to my limits.

He didn’t make me ask again.

He moved over my leg, positioning himself at my entrance, resting the head of his cock just between the folds of my sex before running it along my slit to drench in my juices.

“Morgan, open your eyes.”

I did as he asked, staring up at him, mesmerized by the look in his eyes, lost to the desire.

“Morgan,” he whispered, his body shaking with his own need. “I’m going to etch you with my magic. I need you to rest your hand over my heart. When we bond, I won’t hold back…I want you to know that, I can’t stop myself from being with you.” He nudged me with his cock, nestling deeper between my legs, so close that I ached for his thrust. He let out a quiet moan, closing his eyes briefly, and when he looked at me again, I could see his control slipping, his desire mounting. “Do you understand?”

I nodded and moved my hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. He lowered himself down until his body was almost crushing mine, his weight resting on his left forearm while his right hand lay over my breast.

“I give myself to you, my Huntress, with a vow of protection that no beast shall put asunder.” His fingers trailed over my skin. “Take all of me and use me as you will.”

A flood of warmth washed over me, heightening my senses, sending my nerves into a frenzy of tingling pleasure. It was the magic—I knew without being told—the intoxicating spill of his power into me. With it came such an intense need for him to take me, to claim me as his that I arched at the same time as he thrust, pushing into me with one long delicious stroke. I arched higher, gasping at the tremendous feeling of fullness that came with him, stretching out to accept him and all that he had to give me.

After the initial thrust, he lowered himself down to cover me completely, drawing his cock out to the tip before pounding into me again and again and again. I wrapped my legs around his waist, loving how deep he was, as his hips slammed against mine, shifting my body back with the strength of it. There was something urgent about his rhythm, something primal about how he was taking me. Like he was marking me as his, and the thought of that made me giddy.

He punished my lips, his tongue moving in time with his penis. My orgasm built like a tidal wave, pulling me so taut that I thought I might explode as I crashed over the edge. Sparks of light flashed in front of my eyes as wave after wave of ecstasy cascaded over me. He bellowed with his own climax, thrusting ever harder until he was spent.

He collapsed on top of me, his cock still pulsing, my sheath gripping him tightly as I shook with the remnants of my own orgasm. I had the strangest sensation of peace at that moment—satiated and whole.

He pulled himself out and curled me into his chest, my back nestled against him, his hand possessively cupping my breast. “You are mine now, Morgan, and I share with you all that I have,” he whispered before I drifted off into a contented sleep, only slightly aware of his fingers trailing along my stomach, tracing the same pattern again and again into my flesh, a pattern that my brain just started to recognize before sleep claimed me completely.

How could Cal think that bonding with Morgan would help him distance himself from her? Bonding had made his craving worse, not better.

He buried his face in her hair one more time, deeply inhaling her sweet scent. Being with her, having his hand against her breast, her body nestled into his was intoxicating and overwhelming, and he didn’t want to let her go.