Cold Blooded by Amanda Carlson Page B

around us. I shivered and glanced over his shoulder as he made his way toward the cabin. The air inside the circle seemed to shimmer.
    Rourke carried me to the door of the cabin. Our cabin. It was unlocked, and I reached down and turned the knob so we could enter together. He carried me over the threshold and I smiled like a fiend. It was bar none the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.
    “My first priority is to feed you,” he said as he slid my body slowly along his and set me on the counter. “Which I’m going to thoroughly enjoy watching.”
    We’d both been politely ignoring my stomach grumbles for a while.
    I had learned to master my hunger, which meant I ignored it. There was no possible way I could ever feed myself enough to feel fully satiated, so I continued to parcel it away so it didn’t drive me insane.
    But he was right; I was starved.
    “Then I’m going to take you again right on this counter.” He bent down and cupped my bottom, nipping my lips as he readjusted me on the smooth surface.
    “When you look at it like that,” I said, “all I want for dinner is you .” I ran a single finger from his chin to his sternum, a sly smile playing on my lips. “Unless, of course, you need time to recuperate before … what is it? Round three?”
    “I’ve never had to recuperate a day in my life.”
    I barely had time to grab on to the cupboards.

9

    “We broke the countertop.” My voice was full of sleep as I peered down at the carnage from the loft. Sunlight had begun to filter out of the small western window. It was going to be full dark soon. We’d slept all day—well, almost all day. “And that adorable antique table is in pieces.”
    “It can all be fixed,” Rourke murmured as he wrapped his warm arms around me and nuzzled my back. “I’ll make sure I bring stronger building material next time. Something tough enough to withstand an insatiable female werewolf.”
    “Very funny.” I ran my hands over his warm forearms, my fingertips tracing his beautiful tattoos. “You’re the one who should talk. You threw me around the room like your own personal puppet. This place is breakable. We need to watch ourselves. I love this cabin. I don’t want to destroy it.”
    He growled, low and raspy, his breath hitting my neck and smelling like sweet cinnamon. “If we have sex like that, I don’t care if there’s one piece of furniture left standing when we’re done. Whatever damage we do is totally worth it.”
    It was damn good sex.
    I continued tracing the lines of the dark tattoos running up both his forearms, loving the feel of his skin against the pads of my fingers. “Rourke, these tattoos are unique and amazing, but this is not ink. They follow the pattern of your fur exactly, but they’re only on your arms. How did you get them?”
    “They appeared the day I became Alpha.”
    Of course he’d been Alpha. “I should’ve guessed you were the leader of your Pride.” It must’ve been hard losing everyone over the years. “Is that what happens to all Alpha cats? I’ve never seen another shifter with distinct markings like this.” But that didn’t count for much, since I didn’t know many other species personally.
    “I honestly don’t know,” he said, adjusting his body to lie on his back. “I was the first in my line to get them and I’ve never seen any other shifter with markings that weren’t man-made. But they might have them and just keep them concealed. It’s hard to know.”
    I turned and propped myself up on my elbow. “What do you think they mean?”
    He grinned. “I’ve had a long time to ponder that very question, and my best guess is they’re linked to why I can channel my beast so well without shifting. But in recent years, I’ve been leaning toward the theory they’re pure eye candy. Meet Chick Magnet One and Two.” He pulled his arms up and flexed. The tattoos wrapping around his biceps jumped tantalizingly.
    I shoved his chest, laughing. “I