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Night Play(11)

By:Sherrilyn Kenyon


He nibbled his way from her delicate mouth, down her jaw, while he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. He heard her sharp intake of breath as her breasts were freed. They were a lush bounty. Pale and swollen, they overflowed his hands. He'd never seen anything more beautiful. She laced her hands in his hair while he dipped his head down to suckle her.

Closing his eyes, he groaned in pleasure as he ran his tongue around her puckered nipple.

He hadn't touched a female in almost a year—a record for him. But since the night his sister had died, his life had shot from bad to worse and there hadn't been anyone who appealed to him.

Not to mention that memories of Bride the one time he had seen her in the Square had haunted him. Midnight fantasies of him taking her in every position known. Of him exploring every single inch of her succulent body.

He'd spent hours damning himself for not leaving Sunshine to her own devices and following after this woman.

Protecting Sunshine had cost him everything, and for what? For a damned Dark-Hunter's happiness?

No good deed goes unpunished.

It was Fury's favorite saying. A rogue wolf, Fury was as unreliable and selfish as any, but there were times when the wolf was amazingly astute.

But now as Vane held Bride in his arms and felt her soft, tender body against his, he felt a strange sense of comfort that had eluded him all these past months.

It didn't erase the pain he felt at the loss of his siblings, but it lightened it.

And that alone made her priceless to him.

Bride couldn't think straight as she watched Vane savoring her breasts. He looked as if he were tasting divinity. Her body burned in rich desire. He was spectacular.

His eyes were hooded and dark She stared at his back in the mirror and wondered at the scars that marred his smooth, tanned flesh. She touched the ridges of them while he moved from her right to her left breast.

What had happened to him to cause so many scars? She'd never seen anything like it. Some of the scars were obviously claw and bite marks that looked like he had been mauled by some kind of wild animal. One in particular was deep and large. It went down his shoulder blade, up under his arm.

There was something so deadly about him and yet he held her with a gentle touch. He ran his hand down her stomach, burning a trail over her skin.

Her eyes half-closed, she watched him in the mirror as he dipped his tanned hand under the elastic of her black panties and touched her intimately.

Bride groaned at the sensation of his long, tapered fingers separating the tender folds of her body so that he could caress her. At the sight of his hand playing there in the mirror as he gently sank his fingers deep inside her.

She moaned at the sight and feel of him.

It was so odd to be able to see him from so many different angles. To see herself being loved by him.

She should be embarrassed and yet she wasn't. She didn't even feel self-conscious. If anything, she felt strangely empowered by it.

A man like this so hungry for her.

It was unimaginable.

Vane kissed his way down her stomach. Moving his hand, he actually pulled her underwear off with his teeth. He removed her sandals, taking time to rub the arches of her feet before he tossed them over his shoulder.

He crouched on the floor in front of her, looking up with a hot, devouring, intense stare. He still wore his jeans and boots while she was completely naked.

Vane couldn't breathe as he watched her. There was still a tinge of fear in her, but it was overshadowed by her desire.

He wanted to pull her to him roughly and take her like the animal he was. He wanted to show her how his people mated, forcefully and with dominance.

But he didn't want to scare her. Most of all, he didn't want to hurt her.

She was so vulnerable.

A she-wolf would take human form for the mating. She would walk seductively around the available males, making them crazy with lust until they were ready to kill each other to have her.

Sometimes they did.

There was always a battle for the female. Then she would pick whichever male had impressed her most with his beauty and skill. Usually it was the victor who mated with her, but not always. Vane's first lover had claimed him even though he had lost the fight because she had liked the passion he had shown while trying to win her.

Once her choice was made, the she-wolf would remove her clothes and offer herself to her champion. The male would pin her down and spend the rest of the night showing her just how much stamina and power he had. The female would spend the night testing him. She would try to throw him off or out of her and it was his duty to make sure she didn't. If he tired before morning or before she was fully sated, another male would be brought in.

It was the greatest shame not to please a she-wolf, to have to call out for a second.

Vane had never been shamed.

And he had never taken a woman like Bride. One who wasn't biting and clawing at him as she demanded he please her. Something inside him relished the rarity of this.