As she looked down her body and got an eyeful of his dark head between her thighs, the sight of him coupled with the hot, wet sensations pitched her into a release that shot through her like a thunderbolt, her pelvis thrusting forward, her spine arching again, every cell in her body blowing apart.
Daniel rode it all through with her, keeping the orgasm going, his two fingers inside of her finding a rhythm that brought her to the brink again just as the first release was subsiding.
He was a master of pleasure. He was power and control. He was, in a strange and undefinable way, taking not just her sex, but her soul. She was …
Claimed.
Daniel had been prepared for hot. He got surface of the sun.
He’d been ready for getting into it. He was desperate.
He’d been psyched for a release. He was hit by a frickin’ tsunami.
As he worshipped Lydia’s core with his mouth, he was lost in the feel and taste of her. The noises she was making. The way her nipples and breasts bounced as she jerked and thrashed her way through the pleasure he gave her. And when he eased back a little and watched his slick, glossy fingers go in and out of her—
His voice exploded out of his throat. “Fuck! ”
All at once, his arousal went haywire on him, the orgasm he had been holding back, the pain in his balls, the urgent need to release, getting away from him. Like a teenager, he pumped into the towel that was wadded up under his hips, ejaculating—
“Damn it,” he hissed.
Lydia lifted her head and looked over her tight-tipped breasts at him. “What?”
Looking up from her glistening sex, he closed his eyes. And then he spoke a line he’d never thought would come out of his mouth.
“This never happens to me.”
“I don’t understand—”
When he sat up with the towel in his lap, she looked down at him. Looked back up.
“I swear, this has never happened to me before,” he muttered.
“Did you—”
“I mean, I’ll be ready to go again.” He stared at her through lowered lids. “That is not going to be a problem with you.”
Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he sucked them in, and then deliberately split them with his tongue—and was gratified by the way Lydia gasped with an erotic jerk. Unable to resist, he planted a palm by her waist and held himself over her. Putting his hand back where it had been, he stroked her sex, thumbing the top of it. Then he lowered his head and flicked one of her nipples with his tongue. He worked her slow at first, but that didn’t last. Faster and faster, he went—and when she started to come again, he took her mouth.
And swallowed her cries of release.
It almost made up for his lack of self-control.
Almost.
OKAY, HE’S ASLEEP now.”
As Lydia stared through the Plexiglas door into the transition pen outside the WSP’s clinic, she monitored her wolf’s slow, easy breathing as he lay on his side with his eyes closed. She’d hated tranquilizing him, but she had to do what was right by the animal. Her feelings couldn’t get in the way.
“Lydia,” he said softly.
She could only stare up at him. “Yes.”
It was an answer, not an inquiry, and he nodded, as if they’d made concrete plans to finish what they’d started.
But God, she was in over her head, wasn’t she.
Opening the Plexiglas door, he went over to the wolf, put his arms under the animal, and lifted all that furred weight off the ground like he was merely picking up a newspaper.