Fighting For Their Mate Page 8
Growling, he clenched her hair with one hand and cupped her cheek with the other. As he nibbled his way across her mouth, her senses overloaded. Then there were his eyes. My God. He seemed to see right through her, and that was her undoing—along with his unerring confidence that was full of sexual power. To think he wanted her, and actually knew how to wake up every emotional cell in her body.
“You taste so good, baby.”
You taste good, too. Saying what was on her mind was hard for her, but if he kept this up, she might blurt out everything. The man was amazing. He knew just where to touch her to ignite every pleasure center, and he hadn’t done much more than play with her hair and kiss her.
This was no fumbling college man that was for sure. He moaned, and the sound reverberated deep within his chest. His eyelids drooped and his beard darkened. He must want her badly. She shouldn’t be so turned on, but she was. She told herself it was the adrenaline rush from being spotted, as well as Tyson telling her she was his mate, and not because he was kind, considerate, and a take charge guy.
Be truthful.
He excites me.
Hell. If Brad ever found her and she ended up back at the clinic, she wanted to experience life to the fullest before she died. Bailey tossed away every reason why this was wrong and opened her mouth to invite him in. The first taste sent her reeling.
Instead of jamming his tongue in her mouth like so many of the boys she knew, Tyson was gentle, exploring every nook and cranny. It was almost as if he were savoring the newness as much as she was. Her stomach fluttered at the intensity swirling inside her. She wanted to grab his face and devour him, but right now, she wanted to enjoy every second of this joyous moment.
Tyson ran his palms down her shoulders, caught her hands, and then broke the kiss. Ever so slowly, he brought her fingertips to his lips.
“I want to make love with you. Slow. Easy. Fully. You drive me crazy with need, Bailey.”
No man had ever said anything so romantic before. She was nervous, but who wouldn’t be? He was asking her to make love with a werewolf—or rather a man who had an inner animal bursting to get loose. She nearly swooned.
Closing his eyes, he sucked on each finger, each lick heating her from fingers to toes. Dear Lord what that little tongue swirl was doing to her body. What would happen when he impaled her? Would she explode into pieces? Or truly melt from the inside out?
She wanted to see him naked but didn’t know of a good way to ask. “Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”
He opened his eyes and smiled. “Patience, baby. I can’t tell you how happy you make me. I want you to feel my desire, my passion.” He slid her onto his lap and cradled her.
Oh, yeah. She could feel his passion all right. She was sitting on top of a big, hard ridge. Suddenly, a rush of insecurity shot through her. Would he find her lacking when he finally made love with her? She couldn’t think clearly anymore. He was doing something to her mind, dulling her senses, and filling her with lust. So much lust. It was as if she were under a spell. Is that what it should feel like being someone’s mate?
When he let go of her hand and then lifted a lock of her hair and drew it to his nose.
“I love the way you smell.”
She was about to say she’d just used the hotel soap in North Carolina but then realized he wasn’t asking for an explanation. “Thank you.”
When he inhaled, the hair on the back of his hand grew. He slid her off his lap and clasped her shoulders. “What’s wrong, baby? You stiffened.” He glanced at his hand. “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She had to get used to him being part wolf.
“No, it’s not. I just can’t control myself around you. I’m told that with time it gets better.” He slipped his hands behind his back as if that would help calm him.
Aw. That was kind of sweet. “Maybe I should close my eyes and not think about it.”
He grinned. “You are amazing. Perhaps I should thank Statler for bringing you to me.”
As much as she liked the sentiment, that name brought her down a notch. “Can we just kiss again? And maybe touch a little? I don’t want to think about anything but the present.”
He cupped her face. “You are remarkable, you know that?”
“No.” Bailey wasn’t trying to be coy.
The men she’d slept with couldn’t wait to tear off her clothes and enter her. Tyson acted like she was special. He seemed to understand that it must be hard for her to wrap her mind around the whole concept of werewolves and her being a mate.
“Well, you are.” He nodded to her feet. “I’m going to take off those ill-fitting sneakers, and then I want you to stand.”
She hadn’t expected that, but she had no problem doing it. Hell, he could have asked her to howl like a wolf and she would have done it. “Okay.”
Once he slipped off her shoes and socks, he dashed into the bathroom and returned with a clean towel. “Stand on this and close your eyes.”
“Why?”
He smiled. “Because I asked you to?”
“What are you going to do?” Her previous confidence seemed to have crumpled.
“Because I want to strip off your clothes one piece at a time. If your eyes are closed, you can concentrate on what I’m doing to your body. I need you to take note of how you feel, as I want our time together to be amazing.”
She saw through his ploy. “You just don’t want me to see your nails grow or that nasty hair on your arms and hands sprout.”
Tyson cracked up. “Caught me. Now do as I say or I’ll have to spank you.”
He was kidding. At least she thought he was. No one had spanked her since she was maybe eight, but she didn’t live in a cave. A few of her girlfriends claimed it was fantastic, but she wasn’t so sure.
She closed her eyes. “Can I touch you?”
“Fuck, no. I mean, not yet. You’ll have your turn. I’m working really hard here to have control, baby. Just the thought of touching you the way I want has the wolf in me battling to get out.”
She almost giggled but sobered immediately as soon as she felt his breath on her neck. Why did she have to melt inside when he was near? As soon as she learned he was one of the good guys, her interest had bloomed. Then when he and Ford professed they would give their life to protect her, her body’s desires took over.
“Just relax. I’ll go real slow.”
With the way her panties were dampening, she didn’t want him to take his time. She wanted it fast and rough—full of passion and heat. Her inhibitions had definitely flown the coop. Tyson had hypnotized her. It was the only explanation why she was standing here with a man she barely knew—and loving it. The raw excitement heightened with his every touch.
He nuzzled her neck while he slid his hands under her T-shirt. She sucked in a breath as his calloused fingertips scraped across her sensitive skin, sending shivers of delight across her body. She moaned, louder than she’d intended.
“You like that, don’t you?”
She didn’t want to appear too easy. Or did this confirm that they were mates? “Uh-huh.”
He dragged his hands upward, lifting her shirt. “Raise your arms.”
If she let him take it off, it would signal her consent that she wanted him. Oh, hell. Why was she fighting this? It was what she wanted. Bailey did as he asked. She was so absorbed by the heat from his palms tracing a path over her body that she didn’t even feel the shirt come off. And then there was his scent. Her knees almost weakened every time she inhaled. Before, he smelled like the fresh outdoors, but now it contained more musk, almost as if the animal in him was winning the battle. Lord save me from myself.
“I can’t wait to taste your tits.”
I can’t wait for you to suck on them.
She debated attempting to say something clever, but not only might her humor fall flat, it would prolong the time when she finally made love with him. She couldn’t even imagine what it would be like. At six foot five, she
bet his cock was really thick and long. Add in the fact he had more testosterone than the average man, and she worried she might not be able to handle him.
Her attention snapped back. If he wanted her so much, why was he taking his time? Shouldn’t he be throwing her on the bed and claiming her? Fuck. She must have read way too many of those bodice ripper romance novels.
Duh. He wanted to make sure she could accommodate his girth. Thinking about something that large and powerful inside her, had her pussy clamping down on itself.
The hook on the back of her bra came undone. Instead of him taking it off, he lifted the cups above her too small tits. She’d always been self-conscious about their size.
“Are they okay?” She held her breath. Hopefully, he didn’t think she was fishing for a compliment. She truly was worried.
“My father always said actions speak louder than words.” Tyson’s comment came out a bit strangled.
The moment his lips tugged on the tip and his palm clamped down on the other breast, she was unable to breathe. “That feels so freaking good.”
“Mmm.”
He pulled and twisted, sending her soaring. Tyson might have said that she wasn’t to touch him, but that was just plain cruel. She palmed his chest, a bit disappointed he’d kept on his shirt.
“I need to feel your skin.”
His foot slid back on the carpet. The rustle of fabric implied he’d taken off his shirt and anticipation soared through her.
“Have at me,” he said.
Her fingers tingled. With her eyes still closed, she reached out and dragged her hands down his chest. The braille method had a lot going for it. He had thick hair from nipple to nipple, but it quickly disappeared the lower she went. Against her will, a smile lifted her lips. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to sneak a peek, but somehow she could tell he wanted her to keep them closed.
“Nice.”
“I aim to please.”
He leaned over again and went to work on her other nipple. She arched her back to offer him more and reached out again to touch him. Damn. She couldn’t reach since he was so much taller than she was. Needing the contact, she felt her way up his arms and across his back. Wow. The rippled muscles were like nothing she’d ever felt before. Then hair sprouted. No!
He stood. “Is there a problem?”
How did he do that? “Can you read minds?”
“No, baby, but I can tell when the sexual tension drains from your body. Look at me.”
She did. Her gaze dropped from his face to his magnificent body. She sucked in a big breath. “You’re beautiful.” His naked torso made her drool.
“Men aren’t beautiful, baby. We’re…studly, macho, handsome, and even sexy, but certainly not pretty or beautiful.”
Damn. “I didn’t mean anything—” Before she could finish her sentence, he gathered her in his arms.
“I was only kidding. Tell me what’s wrong.” He lifted her chin, and the light from his face dimmed.
“I’m so out of my league.” She wouldn’t even discuss the fact that she was human and he was—not. “You’re mature and handsome, and I graduated from college only a year ago. I might have toured Europe, but when it comes to men, I’m not all that experienced.” She lowered her gaze. “I know you said we’re mates, but I think you could do better.” Her eyes started to water.
Tyson grabbed her hand and stepped her over to the bed. “That’s not true. Come sit with me.” Holding her hand, he eased down next to her. “I don’t know where to begin, but you are so off base. I’ve seen what you’ve gone through this past week. It’s been incredibly traumatic. I’m thrilled that you think I’m mature, but Afghanistan can age a man. So can seeing what those mean mother fucking Colters are doing to innocent women, but that doesn’t make me better, just a bit more…seasoned.” He twisted a lock of her hair and sighed. “Throughout this ordeal, you’ve held it together and helped in ways we don’t even know yet. You’re resilient, patient, trusting, and wonderful. Even if there were no such thing as a mate, I’d pick you.”
Once more, the tears streamed down her cheeks. The emotional control she’d been trying to keep a grasp on broke. How was he able to say all the right things at the right time? Did that prove they were mates? She had no idea.
Tyson gathered her in his arms. “Go ahead and cry.”
She didn’t want to cry. Bailey wanted to make love with Tyson. It was almost like she needed him to put the horror away, but the tears and sobs kept coming. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. He brought her such comfort that she wondered if maybe all of this was real—that she did belong to him.
No. The ordeal was distorting things—making them seem bigger than life. But in case she was wrong, she’d listen to her heart.
The tears finally stopped and she wiped her cheeks dry. “I must look like a complete mess.”
He looked down at her with something akin to love. “Never. Lie next to me.” Stretching out on the bed, he pulled her close, face to face.
“Can I take off your pants?” she asked.
His eyes widened then he burped out a laugh. “You want to have sex with me? Now? I thought you were too upset.”
“I am, but I do.”
Tyson rolled onto his back and cradled his head in his hands. “Then have at me. But be gentle. I’m near to burstin’, darlin’.”
His fake accent made her laugh. She sniffled. “Can I take the rest of my clothes off first?”
“Hmm. I guess if you want to get naked, I won’t stop you.” He winked.
Tyson Summerville had to be the nicest man she’d ever met. With this golden opportunity in front of her, she didn’t know where to begin. “This is like having Christmas in March.”
“You are too damn good for my ego, girl.”
She smiled and it felt good. “Can you take off your shoes?”
In a flash, they were gone. What was she doing? She forgot she’d just asked to get naked first. See? She was losing her mind and it was all Tyson’s fault. Wanting to tease him, Bailey scooted off the bed and turned her back to him. She unhooked the baggy jeans and slid them over her hips then looked over her shoulder. “Just so you know, I didn’t pick out these clothes. Or the underwear.”
“Sweetheart, even if you wore a bag, I’d still want you.”
Tyson couldn’t be real. He was just too damn good. Wanting to get rid of these unsexy panties, she tossed them off. Now naked, she suddenly got cold feet. Why wasn’t she able to follow through with anything? This indecisiveness was killing her.
“Need help?” he asked.
“No.” Skewing up her courage, she faced him and heat rushed up her body. He was naked—as in totally buff, sporting one big hard on.
Holy fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Tyson just stared. He probably should close his eyes and suggest she get dressed, but he couldn’t. He wanted her so badly he could taste it. The whole concept that Bailey was their mate and that she’d accepted him, blew his mind. If he messed this up, he would never forgive himself. Or worse. Ford will kill him.
Tyson had to make sure he didn’t rush her. She was young, vulnerable, delicate. The trauma of the recent days must be weighing heavily on her mind, yet here she was with him—trusting a stranger to do what was right.
“You are so beautiful. I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and took off my clothes.” He never would have survived if he let her pry off his pants. “You want to touch me?” If he handed over the control, she could go at her pace. Enjoy it more.
Her right foot moved forward, but as she finished the step, her arms wrapped around her breasts. Apparently, she was shy and a little scared perhaps. He liked that about her. Besides, it was totally understandable given the circumstances.
“I’m closing my eyes, okay?” he said, not waiting for her to answer.
Once more, he rested his hands under his head to help curb his overpowering urge to touch her. While the enemy had never captured him during the wa
r, he bet if they had, those men couldn’t dole out anything close to the torture she could inflict on his body. His goal was not to shift. He reasoned that if he couldn’t see her, he wouldn’t be as tempted.
But what the fuck did he know? Ty had never been through anything as exhilarating or downright scary as having a mate in his life.
She neared and his senses shot to high alert. Damn werewolf sense of smell. He didn’t need his eyes to know what she was doing. The bed dipped and her lemon scent invaded his body, turning him on even more. Even with his eyes closed, he could almost feel the heat of her hand before she touched him.
“Just so you know, Bailey, this is testing my strength as a man.”
She placed a palm on his chest and her heat nearly did him in. “What do you mean?”
Hadn’t he already explained the facts of a werewolf’s life to her? “I have to work hard not to kiss you silly and fuck you hard.” Dear God, but he shouldn’t have blurted that out. The hormones must have dissolved his filter.
“Oh, wow.”
He wasn’t sure if she found that appealing or horrifying, but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes and find out. “Well, come on. Do your magic on me.” He attempted to put levity in his tone, but he probably failed.
The typical woman would have gone down on him right away. But Bailey? Not her. She had to run one finger in between his pecs, going from nipple to nipple, over and over again as if she liked the feel of his chest hair or was fascinated by it. He had to clamp his teeth together to stop from grabbing and kissing her.
“It’s so soft,” she said.
“There’s more down below.” God, what an awful come-on line.
She laughed. “I thought you liked patience.”
“Only when I’m teasing you. It’s not easy being on the receiving end.”