Lycan Christmas by S. Yule (best contemporary novels txt) 📗

tugged her to him, framed her face with his hands, and brought her lips to his. She tasted sweet, but the sweetness was tinged with sorrow—sorrow caused by him. Just tell her. He couldn’t.

He deepened the kiss, and she whimpered, but willingly opened her mouth to him when he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

Suddenly, white-hot need and fear shot through him in equal measures.

Claim her. Claim her now before it’s too late. The wolf cried out in his head, and the instinct and urgency was too hard to deny this time as it overwhelmed his sensible brain. Everything she’d just said to him rushed from him, replaced by the need to touch her, take her, make her his in every way. He skimmed his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast over her bra. When her nipple pebbled instantaneously under his fingers, he sank to the floor, dragging her with him, and pinned her under his bigger body without breaking the kiss.

She felt good under him, as if she belonged there, and he wished time would stop at this very moment so he could stay like this with her forever.

How could one tiny woman make his guilty soul soar free in hope that it had been washed clean of past sins and was worthy of the love she offered him?

He drank from her mouth, breathed her scent into his lungs, absorbed each cry he tore from her with every caress.

Her hands came up between them, and just when he thought she might push him away, she stroked her fingers over his biceps and linked them 124

Lycan Christmas

S. K. Yule

around his neck, drawing him closer, welcoming his touch, silently asking for what he craved. He slid her shirt up far enough to expose her breasts, and when he trailed kisses from her mouth, along her jaw, then nibbled his way down her neck, his breath hitched in his lungs when he saw the lacy scrap of pink that barely hid the treasure he sought.

He flicked the front clasp open and groaned when her breasts popped free. She gasped, and he looked up at her, knowing his eyes were glowing brightly, reflecting the same passion-glazed fire that burned in hers. He’d never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted her right now. Before he let reason invade the moment, he bent and sucked her nipple into his mouth, curling his tongue around the tight little peak. She cried out, he growled low in approval, and when she scraped her nails against his scalp, he insinuated one of his thighs between her legs.

She arched up against him, and his cock throbbed and pulsed in need.

He’d never been this out of control, never felt such urgency about anything in his entire existence. He had to have her, had to claim her, had to love her.

* * * *

Melony felt as if she was flying, soaring in a sky of ecstasy. Every time Lorent sucked her nipple into his mouth, her legs clamped around his thigh, and she throbbed low in her abdomen with each pull of his lips. He pinned her to the floor with his bigger frame, but she didn’t feel trapped. His weight on her was a delicious aphrodisiac, a perfect blend of his dominance and her willing submission.

He laved one nipple and then the other, over and over, until she was sobbing in pleasure, digging her nails into his scalp, encouraging him to continue with the sweet torture he was inflicting upon her with his tongue, lips, and teeth. Suddenly he reared up and took her mouth again in a hot, demanding kiss as he ran his palm down her belly and stopped when he came to her navel piercing.

He ran one finger around the tiny pink butterfly and growled in her mouth. His touch seared her, and she barely noticed when his palm 125

Lycan Christmas

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continued lower or when he undid her jeans and slipped his hand inside, under her panties. But when his finger slid over her slick folds and rested on her clit, her eyes flew wide.

He broke the kiss, but stared at her with glowing eyes, his face so close to her own she could feel his hot breath fan over her cheek with each ragged exhale. They stared at one another, frozen in time for several moments, and then he moved his finger again. She moaned—a long keening sound, a strange sound to her own ears, a sound she instinctively knew only Lorent could drag from her—and clutched at his shoulders.He dipped his finger, the tip entering her then sliding up and over her clit once again, and growled low and long.

“You are so hot and wet, just for me,” he whispered. He dipped his finger again, then trailed it back up over her clit, where he danced it around the tiny bundle of nerves in a slow, lazy circle.

She panted hard. “Lorent! I feel like I’m going to explode into a million pieces.”

He kissed her gently, swirling his tongue around hers, mimicking the movement of his finger on her core. She bucked against him in wild abandon, forgetting about why they shouldn’t be doing this, yearning for what he offered.

He kissed her ear. “Then shatter for me, sweet Melony. Let me give you pleasure.”

His finger dipped and stroked and dipped and stroked until she thought she might pass out from an overload of pleasure surging through every nerve in her body. The delicious ache in her lower abdomen built, and when he bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth, she flew apart into a million pieces. She clung to him as he wrung every last cry from her lips, and lay quivering under him in numb bliss. Yet while her climax had been mind-blowing, she felt empty, as if something were missing. And it was. Lorent hadn’t been inside her, where she’d