Wolf at Law by Heather Long by Heather Long

shrug. The pain wasn’t a big deal. Not when he experienced ecstasy in the same breath.
    Awareness of her pulse calming and the easing of her respiration gave him hope. Her acceptance was all he craved at the moment. Getting her to fall in love with him, to take his bite, to be his mate? He had patience in spades, but she had to accept his wolf.
    Sitting there, basking under his mate’s attention was a gift, one he didn’t take lightly. Time ceased to have meaning. She scratched between his ears, then along his jaw and, when he left his head to give her access to his throat, she rewarded him with more pets.
    “We should—well, you should change, I suppose.” The reluctance in her statement thrilled the wolf. She liked him. He preened under the affection. “We need to talk, but I don’t want you to hurt.”
    Rising carefully, he brushed his nose to her cheek. She giggled and the sound buoyed him. His wolf was satisfied with the contact. They would have time for more later, so he withdrew a few paces and the man rushed up. The agony and ecstasy twisted together until he knelt in front of her, both fists braced against the earth.
    “Oh my God,” she exhaled the words. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to it.”
    “You will,” he told her, and heard the rumble of the wolf in his voice still. “One day at a time.”
    “You’re really a wolf.” Then she shocked him by rolling to her knees and reaching out to him. She stopped just short of touching his face. “Is it all right?”
    Catching her hand in his, he pressed her fingers to his cheek and then she was in his arms. Her gaze never left his as she kissed him. The gift branded him, if he hadn’t been hers before he tumbled over fully. No matter what she needed or when she needed it, Ryan would give it to her. Her mouth opened to him, and their lips fused together.
    His cock leapt at the invitation. Every soft curve of her pressed against him and his shift-sensitive skin reveled in the contact. He pulled her into his lap and she straddled him. Her groan invited him to go further, but he hesitated and nipped her lower lip lightly.
    Drunk on her scent—on her—he lifted his head. “Not yet,” he told her. “I want to lose myself in you, but you’re not ready yet.”
    Lashes sweeping downward, she hid her eyes from his and then she looked up at him. “I want to be ready.”
    That was enough. He could accept the pledge. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, then to her nose and finally taking her mouth again, he sought entry with his tongue. She wrapped her arms around him. Her nails bit into his back, and the only scent he tasted on her was need and desire twining together.
    No fear.
    No anxiety.
    She arched her back and her hips rolled forward. The stroke along his cock scalded him. Breaking the kiss was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Her ragged breathing warned him she was as affected as him.
    “When you’re ready,” he promised her. “Not before.”
    Curving around him, she tucked her face against his shoulder. Her breath fanned against his neck, a vulnerable place for any wolf to allow another. The realization she could rip out his heart and he’d lie there and let her struck him. “I wish I’d met you first,” she whispered.
    Unable to not respond to her anguish, he said. “I would wish the same thing, except for one small matter.”  
    She continued to pet him—was she even aware of it? Her thumbs stroked his shoulders, the artless grace in the touch settling his wild need. They had time. The rest of their lives, in fact. “What’s that?”
    “You are who you are because you survived, because you’ve had to struggle. I hate that you’ve had to go through any of it, and I will never allow anyone to harm you that way again. But, had you met me first, you would not have Alexis.” The truth was, she would be a wolf. He would have turned her, and they could have their own children. Yet the thought of that beautiful, spunky little