Silence of the Wolf(66)

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough about you to know I want you. I haven’t been able to get you out of my thoughts since the moment I picked you up at the B and B. You’ll be safe with us.”

She arched one brow at him.

“If we keep you at Darien’s house until we catch these bastards who have hurt you. I’m not changing my mind about this. If you need longer for me to change yours, so be it.”

She smiled then, just a little. She really couldn’t believe it.

“Okay, look,” he said very seriously, taking some of her hair and stroking it between his fingers. “After we finish with this business with the wolves I’m tracking, I had intended to find you, court you, and do whatever it took to convince you that you had lost your heart to one of the Silver brothers—me, in particular. I wouldn’t give up on us. Why do you think I called you a dozen times?”

“Seventeen.”

He smiled. “See?”

She’d lost her mind. Not that she hadn’t done so before.

“So the only question now is whether this will be a long, drawn-out courtship or…” He waggled his brows.

“Just kiss me,” she said, reaching up and grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down. “We can work out the details later.”

Before Elizabeth could change her mind, Tom unbuttoned the blue-plaid flannel shirt she wore. He was amazed at how many times he’d undressed and dressed her already, and every time seemed just as erotic as the first. And every time, he’d wanted to take this further. He parted the shirt and considered her breasts rising and falling, the nipples already tight with need, her long red hair curling about them.

His gaze shifted to her bandages. He peeled off each of the bandages all over her skin, ensuring she really was okay and glad to see that a light pink where her skin was nearly healed was all that was left of the abrasions she’d suffered.

“All better,” she assured him, her hands combing through his hair, her fingers stroking his scalp in such a seductive way that he groaned.

Her skin was lightly flushed, her heart rate and breathing quickened, the smell of her woman’s arousal kicking in. For a wolf, her scent was an aphrodisiac, calling to him, filling him with urgency, telling him she was ready and wanted him.

His cock already strained against his flannel boxers because of the way her soft body had pressed against him. The scent of her and her quiet breath drifting over his bare chest had filled him with desire before she’d awakened. When she’d stirred awake and moved that sweet body against his arousal, he’d stifled the urge to groan.

She needed family, him. But he needed her just as much. He’d realized how much so when she’d left Darien’s home without saying good-bye. The heartwarming photo she’d left of him caring for the little girl made him feel that Elizabeth would have loved to experience the compassion and caring and being part of the scene. Not an outsider looking in.

Now he had every intention of making her his. No one would ever hurt her again.

He skimmed his hands over her breasts, feeling the soft mounds, the taut buds at the tips. He leaned down, and with a flick of his tongue, he licked a rosy nipple. She groaned.

He encircled the other breast with his hand, caressing, lifting, and then he took the nipple in his mouth and sucked. She writhed underneath him. He loved the way she responded to him, wanting his caresses as much as he wanted to touch her. Being with her like this felt so right.

The room was icy cold, the comforter and blankets cast aside, but he was burning up. Her hands stroked down his back, and he ground against her mound still covered in the soft sweatpants. His. It brought to mind the subtle thought that by dressing her in his clothes, he’d already claimed her.

She slipped her fingers underneath his boxers and scored his buttocks lightly with her nails. God, he was ready to come.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

He was afraid she was in pain, but she smiled, her eyes dark with desire. He moved over and pulled the sweats off her gently, just in case she was still sore. She reached to tug off his boxers, watching when his cock sprang free.

He couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than to love that sweet body of hers. To cherish her for who she was. To be with her forever.

He sank a finger between her feminine lips and felt her heat, wetness, and readiness. And then began to stroke her bud, his mouth on hers, his tongue penetrating, licking, teasing, playing with hers.

Her hands were all over him, touching, caressing, kicking up the heat, and he wanted more. He stroked between her legs faster.

“Harder,” she begged.

He obliged, spreading her legs farther apart with his knee. He felt her tense and nearly stopped what he was doing, concerned she was hurting.