Kiss of Snow

Chapter 44

HAWKE LOVED HAVING her here, in his territory, all glowing skin and dark hair glimmering with hidden notes of fire. The wolf rolled in her scent, playful as a pup—but Hawke was vividly conscious of the spice-scented arousal that had grown ever hotter as the minutes passed. She hadn’t rebelled against his feeding her, had in fact, insisted on returning the favor. But the desert bowl had only one spoon, and he had it.

On second thought . . .

Throwing the spoon over his shoulder, he dipped his finger in the rich butterscotch ice cream, brought it to her lips. Her mouth formed a soft, hot vice around his finger as she sucked—then she brought her tongue into play.

Every part of him wanted to lunge at her, but he resisted the primitive urge. This night, it was about her. She’d given herself to him, and he wanted her to know that he understood the value of her gift, that he would never allow her to feel anything but cherished.

Removing his finger through lips that teased him with their luscious grip, he swirled it back in the ice cream and painted the curve of her mouth with the sweet treat before dipping his head and kissing it off. Her lips were cool from the icy treat, but they warmed up fast, her taste a lick of butterscotch and spice.

“I think,” she said, hands clenching on the lapels of his shirt, the top curves of her breasts flushed and plump, “I’ve had enough dessert.”

“Then”—he nipped at her lips because he loved the way her arousal spiked each time he did it, flicked his tongue over the small hurt—“I guess it’s time for mine.” He felt the tremor that shook her frame as he drew her out of her seat, knew it wasn’t fear. Sliding his hands down her ribs, he rested them on the temptation of her hips. Anticipation turned her eyes to midnight as he backed her out, kiss by slow kiss, from the living area and into his bedroom.

Onto his bed.

“Mine,” he said, moving around to the end of the bed after placing her on the sheets, so he could circle his hands around her ankles, tug her forward a couple of inches. “All mine.”

“Hawke.”

“I like the way you say my name in bed.” Lifting one slender foot, he pressed a kiss to her ankle, then undid the strap that held up her pretty sandal and dropped it to the floor. Her foot curled under his touch, a delicate kittenish arch. “Maybe I’m the one who’s going to end up with a foot fetish,” he murmured, lighting a kiss on her other ankle as he undid the second sandal.

A laugh that sounded startled out of her.

Pleased with himself, he took a playful bite of her little toe as he flicked aside her shoe and raised his head. “Look at you, aroused and sexy and in my bed.”

No blush, no hesitation. Those passion-dark eyes followed him as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the back of a chair, before beginning to unbutton his shirt. His wolf preened for her.

SIENNA clutched at the sheets, her body making small restless shifts as Hawke’s black shirt parted to expose a strip of masculine chest she wanted to rub up against in the most scandalous of ways. When he tugged the shirt out of his pants and finished unbuttoning it, her throat dried up.

There was something deliciously decadent about a man—about him—in a partial state of undress. As if she’d caught a glimpse of the forbidden.

Kicking off his shoes and socks without taking his eyes off her, he prowled over to the side of the bed. “I like this dress,” he said, and it was a vocal caress. “Let’s not tear it.” Putting one knee on the bed, he leaned down to kiss her, pure heated demand. “Turn over,” he murmured after he’d melted her bones.

It probably wasn’t the best of ideas to give him everything he wanted, but she had no willpower where he was concerned. Could any woman resist him when he was like this? Sienna didn’t think so—of course, if any other woman did ever dare touch him, she’d fry the bitch in under a second.

“What just went through your head, hmm?”

She told him the truth, saw the wolf laugh, bare its teeth. “That’s my girl.” His hands flipped her onto her front. “You understand it’s a two-way street?” Fingers pushing aside her hair to bare her nape. “Next time that baby cat puts his hands on you, he’s dead.”

“Kit is my friend.”

“You can’t have a baby cat alpha as a friend.” A bite on her nape.

Oh, God. It was near impossible to think, but she found the will to reach back and pull on his hair. “Leave my friends alone or I’ll be forced to get mean.”

Licks over the bite, laughter against her ear. “I like you,” he said, and she had the deep, deep awareness that it was the wolf part of him that had spoken with such delight.

The tug came an instant later, the zipper being lowered. Then . . . a breath of hot air against her spine, open-mouthed kisses along the skin bared by the parting metallic teeth.

Shivering, she arched for him, felt his fingers slip inside her dress to the curve of her waist. The roughness of his skin was a shock that made her moan. More kisses on her back before he removed his touch to tug down the straps. Instead of turning onto her back, she rose up a fraction and pulled the straps down off her arms, pushing the dress to her waist.

A big, warm hand on her ribs, curving up to cup her breast without warning. Crying out, she fell forward. It trapped his hand between her body and the bed—not that he seemed to mind. Squeezing and petting her with possessive heat, he dropped a rain of kisses over her shoulders.

“No,” she protested when he removed his hand.

“I want this dress off.” A couple of hard tugs and it was gone, leaving her dressed in nothing but the lace panties she’d bought months ago but never before worn. They’d felt too hedonistic, too sensual. That was before she’d started playing with an alpha wolf.

Pushing long strands of hair off her face, she turned her head to see said wolf straddling her thighs. He was still clothed, that unbuttoned shirt pure provocation, but his eyes had gone night-glow, his face taut with wild hunger. It was instinct to curve her body up toward him, to seek to entice.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers, and then he moved, gripping her jaw so he could take her mouth in a full-bodied kiss that was all tongue and heat and teeth as he slid his free hand under her body to close over the sensitive flesh of one breast, the hard push of his erection insistent against skin naked under fine black lace. It was at that moment, with his beautiful, hungry mouth on hers, his big, gorgeous body pressing down against her own, and his fingers plucking at her nipple that she realized she was in way over her head.

HAWKE knew it the instant Sienna lost her confidence, the instant she started to retreat. Rubbing his thumb over her nipple, he fought his possessive urges and gentled the voracious kiss. She was his. There would be only pleasure for her tonight.

It was difficult to break away from her mouth, to resist the temptation to squeeze and mold her neglected breast. Instead, nudging her onto her back, he nuzzled at her neck before rising to shrug off his shirt. “Touch me?”

Her hands went to his chest at once, petting him the way she knew he liked. It made him want to spread her thighs, settle in between, until he could rub his cock against the damp softness of her. She’d be so lush, so perfect. Instead, he allowed himself only a single lick to the tip of one tightly furled nipple—to her quivering moan—before beginning to kiss his way down her body.

Her fingers clenched in his hair.

Realizing she was attempting to keep him at her breasts, he smiled, retraced his steps. “This what you want, baby?”

She arched up off the bed when he took her nipple into his mouth, rolling the taut nub over his tongue. Sensitive, very sensitive, he thought, closing one hand over her hip, the touch of lace under his palm a sensual pleasure . . . but nowhere near as erotic as her naked skin. Releasing that nipple without biting—he’d save that for next time—he swirled his tongue around the other, wanting to drown her in pleasure, until she’d never feel the lack of the one thing he couldn’t give her.

“Did you enjoy my mouth on your breasts?” he asked after resuming his downward journey.

“You know I did.” Husky words, her hands shaping and caressing his shoulders.

Wanting those hands on every inch of his body, he pressed a kiss to her navel. “I like to hear.” Her arousal was intoxicating this close to the liquid heat between her thighs, and he had to fist one hand in the sheets to rein himself back before he scared her. “Tell me if this pleases you.” Skipping over the damp curls under the small triangle of black lace that teased rather than concealed, he kissed and nipped at her inner thighs.

A shuddering breath. “Yes.”

Spreading her legs, he used a single claw to cut the sides of her panties. A tug later and they were gone. Every one of her muscles locked at the same moment, and when he looked up, her eyes were closed tight. His mouth watered to taste the drugging scent so rich and luscious against his tongue, but he wanted her with him.

Rising, he pressed a kiss to her stomach, to her chest, to her throat, to her lips. She opened to him without hesitation, dangerous and wild and Sienna. Only when her hips were undulating up toward him did he run his hand back down to the heat between her legs, caressing her desire-swollen folds with a single finger, his touch delicate. “You like this.”

“Yes.” A sigh, a roll of her hips as she searched for more.

He cupped her, stroking around the tight, wet entrance that had his cock jerking in the confines of his pants. She cried out into his mouth and gripped his biceps, but he drew away to kiss his way down her body once more. This time her eyes stayed open, and on him.

SIENNA had just barely enough presence of mind to check the cold fire. It was nowhere near critical after the most recent purge, and her reinforced shields were holding. That meant she could enjoy this night, enjoy being with Hawke.

Right now, she wasn’t sure she’d survive what he intended to do, but oh, how she wanted it. Her body felt like a toy that had been wound up too tight, every part of her straining to reach for something she couldn’t quite touch. “Hawke, please.”

Wolf-blue eyes held her own. “Trust me.”

“Always.” There was no question of trust, never had been.

A wicked, wicked smile. “I told you it was my turn for dessert.”

With that sinful statement, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and gave her a kiss so intimate, her mind roiled with blackness before sparking in a fever of crimson. She’d never known, never understood. When she’d read about it in the women’s magazines, it had seemed like an act that would embarrass her. Right now, she wasn’t embarrassed. She was eager and needy and so pleasured it hurt.

If the first level of dissonance had been in effect, she would’ve passed out from the pain, but though the sensations were beyond anything she’d ever known, there was no agonizing backlash.

Her wolf had no inhibitions, refused to permit her any either. “A little more,” he said, spreading her thighs even farther to allow him better access to flesh swollen and flushed with passion. It made her hands clench on the sheets to imagine how he saw her. Slick and pink and open. Then he began to taste her in slow, wet strokes, one finger entering her in a prelude to the ultimate penetration, and her thoughts fractured into a long, shuddering submission.

She came to, to find a very satisfied wolf at her side. He was drawing patterns on the sweat-sheened skin of her navel with his finger. “How was dessert?” she asked, her throat a husky reminder that she’d screamed at the end.

A flash of teeth. “I plan to go back for seconds in a bit.”

She sucked in a breath. “Bad wolf.”

Sliding down his hand, he tugged at her damp curls. “Hungry wolf.”

Right then, Sienna knew she was sunk. Absolutely and gloriously. “I want you.”

Wolf-pale eyes gleamed at her from below a thick fan of lashes. “How much?” A tease and a dare in one.

Turning to push him onto his back, she kissed her way down his throat to bite at his pulse. His hand clenched in her hair, his muscles taut. He didn’t stop her when she smoothed one hand down that beautiful chest and lower, to the top button of his pants. She had no idea when he’d gotten rid of the belt but she was grateful—her fine-motor functions were somewhat impaired after the way he’d eaten up his dessert.

Now, she lifted her head, bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder as she looked down to watch her other try to undo the button. He hissed as her fingertips brushed the thrust of his erection, every one of his muscles going so rigid, she’d have thought him in pain except that she’d felt the kiss of raw sexual pleasure, understood.

Frustrated because her fingers kept sliding off the stubborn button, she ignored it and slid her hand under his waistband. To touch hot, hard flesh sheathed in delicate velvet. Her breath rushed out of her, but her hand was being pulled away before she was anywhere close to satisfied, and suddenly, she was flat on her back with a wolf at her mouth, at her throat, at her breasts. He sucked her nipples into his mouth, hard and wet, possessive hands plumping up her breasts for his enjoyment.

She was used to the teeth by now . . . but not the way they made her feel.

Jerking, she went to wrap her leg around his waist, was halted by his hand on her thigh. “Pants,” he muttered and rose off the bed in a lightning fast move. A split second later, he was back, pulling her leg over his naked hip.

Sienna tried to push at him. She wanted to see, wanted to pet and caress that hard male body. But then he ran his tongue along the lower curve of her breast, and she lost her train of thought, her hands clenching on the muscled silk of his shoulders. “Kiss me.” It was a needy whisper, and it was hardly out before he was there, one hand cupping her face while he braced himself above her with the other, his mouth teasing and playing with hers until she lost her breath, had to break the delicious contact.

“More?” the wolf asked.

She tried to suck in a breath. “You’re naked.”

A slow, slow smile. “So are you.” He slid his hand down her thigh, shifting to stroke through the softest, most sensitive part of her. “So slick,” he said, those eyes hot and hungry as he rubbed at the entrance to her body.

Her mind fogged over, her hips rising to meet his touch. When he pressed, she gripped his biceps and pulled him down, intent on tasting his mouth, his neck, any part of him she could reach as he breached her with a finger, adding a second with a slowness that made her shudder. He scissored them just as slow, stretching her tissues and rocking jolts of pleasure through her. Readying her, she thought through the haze, he was readying her body for his possession.

She could feel him against the inside of her thigh, knew the proud thickness of his erection would be nothing easy to accept. Lights flashed behind her eyelids as he used the head of his cock to tease her clitoris. Easy was not something that mattered. She just wanted him. Now. “Inside me.” Hurry.

Hawke heard her, but he continued to pump his fingers into her, continued to kiss her—sucking at her lower lip, dipping his head to mark her breasts, her neck. “Not yet.” He wanted her all but liquid with pleasure before he took her, because it was going to hurt. No way around it, even if the thought of hurting her in any way pissed him off. She was tight and hot, and he was a big man.

“Let me pet you some more.” Sweat shimmered on her throat, and he licked it off, savoring the salt and spice of her. “I love your breasts.” They were flushed pink from the brush of his jaw, the touch of his teeth. In a chair, he thought, biting at her lower lip when she ordered him to “Finish it!” He was going to take her in a chair the next time so she’d be astride him and he could play with those pretty breasts as he pleased.

Feeling her muscles clench around his fingers, he kissed his way back down her body again and spread her thighs, inhaling the erotic musk of her. His mouth watered, and since she was his and she was delicious, he decided it was time for seconds. It only took one long lick for her to shatter, but he kept going, using his mouth to pleasure her with flicks and nips and hot little sucks focused on the slippery nubbin of flesh at the apex of her thighs until her body went limp, aftershocks rippling over her skin.

When he prowled up this time, she watched him from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was pure temptation. “Are you,” she gasped as he slotted himself against her, began to push, “like this”—a throaty feminine sound, her tissues liquid fire around him—“all the time?”

He wasn’t thinking much anymore, consumed by pleasure, but he knew one thing. “For you—yes.” Gripping her hip, he slid in another couple of inches, felt her nails dig into his shoulders.

But instead of pushing him away, she pulled him toward her. The leash snapped, and he buried himself to the hilt in a single thrust. Her pained gasp was muffled against his shoulder as her legs quivered around him. Yet she continued to hold him tight. Finding some semblance of civilized thought, he petted her thigh, nuzzled, and kissed until she began to move her hips—or attempt to in any case. He pinned her to the bed, and he had every intention of using that leverage for her pleasure.

One hand on her hip, he slid back out torturously slowly . . . then slid in the same way. Sienna’s eyes flared open, held his. “Do that again.” An intimate demand.

Teeth bared in a feral smile, he did. Then again. And again. Until she fractured around him, those tiny muscles squeezing so tight around his cock he almost came. He wanted to pound into her, to flip her onto her hands and knees, and to mount her in the most primitive of ways, but that could wait. Tonight, this, it was for her. So though his jaw hurt from how hard he’d clenched it, he continued to stroke into her slow and easy and again. And had the pleasure of feeling her body rise to meet his over and over.

This time, he allowed the erotic pulse of her orgasm to sweep him under, wring him dry. “Next time,” he murmured in her ear as he collapsed, his heart a fucking drum against his ribs, “I’m not going to behave.”