Saved by Wolves (Shifters Meet Their Mate Book 1) by Elena Hunter Page B

let him lead her.
    His lips broke from hers, and she heard a strange groaning sound of protest, realizing in shock that the sound had come from her. She opened her eyes, which had somehow closed, and met Jackson’s searching, questioning gaze.
    He was waiting for her. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for her to make a decision.
    Kirra didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.
    Holding his gaze, she nodded.
    In seconds, her shirt was shoved above her breasts and the front clasp of her bra was undone. The shoulder straps of her pack meant she couldn’t take either off, but it didn’t matter. Jackson knelt at her feet, running his large hands over her sides, careful not to disturb the bandage, and up and around her breasts, cupping their weight. They looked small in his huge palms, and a flash of self-consciousness hit. Were they too small? She’d never cared about her breasts or lack of before, but what if he was used to ...
    Warm lips captured a nipple and tugged, and she arched her back, her panicked thoughts fading away in the face of the pleasure shooting straight to her core. He moved between her breasts, licking and sucking, lavishing equal attention on each one.
    Knees weak, Kirra clutched at his bicep for support. His teeth grazed her nipple, and she cried out, thrusting her hips forward. She was wet. Ready.
    Jackson released her nipple and grasped her by the waist, swinging her into his arms and striding back down the trail in the direction they’d come from, not hindered at all by the fact he was carrying her and three packs.
    Arms looped over his shoulders, hands clasped together behind his neck, Kirra peered over his shoulder. “You’re going backwards,” she said. What she really wanted to ask was why he’d stopped kissing her. Why wasn’t he inside her already?
    He ignored her protest, picking up the pace. A minute later, he took a sharp right, off the path, and forged his way through another ten feet of dense brush. Brambles swiped at her legs, and he pressed her face against his chest to protect it from low-lying branches. At least she assumed that’s why he did it.
    “I’m starting to think the mood has broken,” she muttered. Her bare breasts rubbed against his chest hair with every step, sending equal amounts of lust and self-consciousness through her. It was one thing to be naked in a passionate, mind-numbing embrace. It was another to be carted around half dressed with no explanation. “Is this your way of telling me—” Her words broke off when he came to a sudden stop and let her legs slip to the ground. Their fronts were still plastered together. A quick glance of the area showed they were in a small clearing on the bank of a slow-moving stream. Yellow and purple wildflowers dotted the thick carpet of grass. It was a picture taken from the pages of a storybook, or a travel brochure.
    Jackson didn’t give her time to admire the scenery. He helped her shed her pack and tugged her shirt over her head. Free of its restraint, her bra dropped to the ground. Kirra unzipped her jeans, and Jackson slipped his thumbs in the waistband of her pants and tugged them down her legs, growling in frustration when her boots blocked his way. Kirra ended up on her butt, legs in the air as Jackson unlaced her boots and tossed them away. One landed dangerously close to the edge of the riverbank, and Kirra instinctively reached out to save it from tumbling into the water. Jackson shook his head and used his grip on her ankles to pull her closer while he finished stripping her pants and socks off.
    They were her favorite boots, but they were just that. Boots. Kirra dismissed them and, from her position flat on her back, focused on Jackson.
    “You’re overdressed,” she said, gesturing at his sweatpants. If the bulge pressing against them was any indication, he was as ready for this as she was.
    It was as if he didn’t hear her. He pushed her legs wide, then knelt between her thighs, resting one palm flat on her