didn’t look pretty.
And sexy.
She was wearing something sleek and satiny held up by two thin strings. His claws came out, his wolf urging him to slice them away and allow the silky top to slide down her body. She would be gloriously naked underneath. She looked sensual and innocent and vulnerable and he knew if he touched her now, there would be no going back this time. His wolf would take over and the animal would take this woman and the man would go along gladly.
Even knowing that, knowing the implications, he reached out.
And touched her soft skin.
At the light brush of McQuade’s fingers on her bare arm, Rose’s belly contracted and her breath left her body in a quiet whoosh. A sharp awareness prickled up her arms and over her shoulders. She could feel his desire, his lust. Even in this insanely unbelievable instance, she had no illusion it was anything more.
“Make love to me, McQuade.” She pressed herself closer and closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t reject her soft plea, reject her. He was here, a flesh and blood man and she’d be damned if she’d pass up this heaven-sent opportunity even though she was angry at herself for wanting what she couldn’t have, and angry at fate for bringing this beautiful man into her life—and heart—when she had no chance of keeping him.
His jaw appeared to be carved from granite, strong, square and absolutely unrelenting, just like the man. Only a tiny tick along in his cheek gave any indication his emotions were affected at all. She brushed her fingers across his full lips.
“Kiss me,” she pleaded .
At the first touch of his lips, she wanted to cry. The feelings rushing through her were too many and too wild to comprehend. His touch had her body as chaotic as her mind. Winding her arms around his neck, she leaned into him and into his kiss. His tongue pressed against her lips and she opened for him willingly. His kiss held more experience than Rose had gleaned in her short life, along with the knowledge of how to guide a woman where he wanted her to go.
He murmured soft words and angled her head to deepen the kiss. Fire exploded in her belly, streaking a path downward to her hungry pussy. With each pass of his lips her juices flowed faster, her body softening, readying itself for him. She feasted on his tongue, making up with eagerness what she lacked in experience. Her hands gripped his shirt. She wanted to draw him deeply inside herself, to become one with him. She wanted him to be a part of her, to fill her. To not only want her, but to need her. And in the emptiest part of her heart, love her.
When his hands tugged the chemise over her head, Rose forgot to be embarrassed. The look on his face told her she had nothing to be ashame d of. When his hands cupped her fullness, she groaned, arching her willing flesh into his calloused palms.
His touch rammed into her with the impact of a runaway train. He took control before she could even offer a protest. Not that she wanted to. She felt as if she’d known this man forever. She would have given herself to him the first night she’d met him if he’d asked. She was going to give herself to him tonight. She’d spent twenty some years waiting—waiting for something she couldn’t name. Now with his touch turning her bones to liquid, she knew what she’d waited for. Or, rather, who she had waited for.
McQuade, her lone wolf.
He kissed her again, his hands at her waist guiding her backward until she was against the wall, his big body pressing so close she felt every ridge and sinew. Taking one of her hands, he guided her to his impressive erection. “I’m going to fuck you, Rose. All night long.”
Rose had never held a man’s dick in her hand before and certainly not one as impressive as McQuade’s. She didn’t think her hand would close all the way around him. What if she couldn’t take all of him? What if he was disappointed in her?
What had she been thinking? She still wanted him, but she had
And sexy.
She was wearing something sleek and satiny held up by two thin strings. His claws came out, his wolf urging him to slice them away and allow the silky top to slide down her body. She would be gloriously naked underneath. She looked sensual and innocent and vulnerable and he knew if he touched her now, there would be no going back this time. His wolf would take over and the animal would take this woman and the man would go along gladly.
Even knowing that, knowing the implications, he reached out.
And touched her soft skin.
At the light brush of McQuade’s fingers on her bare arm, Rose’s belly contracted and her breath left her body in a quiet whoosh. A sharp awareness prickled up her arms and over her shoulders. She could feel his desire, his lust. Even in this insanely unbelievable instance, she had no illusion it was anything more.
“Make love to me, McQuade.” She pressed herself closer and closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t reject her soft plea, reject her. He was here, a flesh and blood man and she’d be damned if she’d pass up this heaven-sent opportunity even though she was angry at herself for wanting what she couldn’t have, and angry at fate for bringing this beautiful man into her life—and heart—when she had no chance of keeping him.
His jaw appeared to be carved from granite, strong, square and absolutely unrelenting, just like the man. Only a tiny tick along in his cheek gave any indication his emotions were affected at all. She brushed her fingers across his full lips.
“Kiss me,” she pleaded .
At the first touch of his lips, she wanted to cry. The feelings rushing through her were too many and too wild to comprehend. His touch had her body as chaotic as her mind. Winding her arms around his neck, she leaned into him and into his kiss. His tongue pressed against her lips and she opened for him willingly. His kiss held more experience than Rose had gleaned in her short life, along with the knowledge of how to guide a woman where he wanted her to go.
He murmured soft words and angled her head to deepen the kiss. Fire exploded in her belly, streaking a path downward to her hungry pussy. With each pass of his lips her juices flowed faster, her body softening, readying itself for him. She feasted on his tongue, making up with eagerness what she lacked in experience. Her hands gripped his shirt. She wanted to draw him deeply inside herself, to become one with him. She wanted him to be a part of her, to fill her. To not only want her, but to need her. And in the emptiest part of her heart, love her.
When his hands tugged the chemise over her head, Rose forgot to be embarrassed. The look on his face told her she had nothing to be ashame d of. When his hands cupped her fullness, she groaned, arching her willing flesh into his calloused palms.
His touch rammed into her with the impact of a runaway train. He took control before she could even offer a protest. Not that she wanted to. She felt as if she’d known this man forever. She would have given herself to him the first night she’d met him if he’d asked. She was going to give herself to him tonight. She’d spent twenty some years waiting—waiting for something she couldn’t name. Now with his touch turning her bones to liquid, she knew what she’d waited for. Or, rather, who she had waited for.
McQuade, her lone wolf.
He kissed her again, his hands at her waist guiding her backward until she was against the wall, his big body pressing so close she felt every ridge and sinew. Taking one of her hands, he guided her to his impressive erection. “I’m going to fuck you, Rose. All night long.”
Rose had never held a man’s dick in her hand before and certainly not one as impressive as McQuade’s. She didn’t think her hand would close all the way around him. What if she couldn’t take all of him? What if he was disappointed in her?
What had she been thinking? She still wanted him, but she had
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