Marked

Chapter Two

I’ve officially lost my mind.

What in the world had possessed her to get into the car and drive to Jackson’s home? Why hadn’t she fought? Why had she sat quietly without questioning his motives? It hadn’t taken long—no more than ten minutes—to make the trip. But during that time she’d found it hard to concentrate. His enticing cologne seemed so much more powerful in the confines in the car, wrapping around her like a comforting cloud and making everything hazy.

Hazy. Now there was a word to describe how she felt.

From the moment he’d touched her at the tattoo parlor, nothing had made sense. It was as if something had come to life inside her, taking over rational thought. She’d wanted to argue or deny what she experienced but couldn’t formulate the words. All she could think about was how wonderful he smelled, how amazing his fingers felt against her skin.

How delicious he would taste.

The dampness in her panties increased as she stepped past the threshold into his home. It was impossible to think clearly when she visualized the dream he’d mentioned. They’d touched each other before, using their hands to give each other pleasure, but they’d never used their mouths. Until he’d challenged her, daring her to get on her knees and suck his cock. She’d balked at first, embarrassed at the thought. Then she remembered it was only a dream. She could become unleashed. Lust had taken over and she’d given him exactly what he asked for.

Heat rushed through her bloodstream like liquid fire at the remembrance.

She’d sucked and licked, finding that she wanted more of his taste in her mouth, anxious to feel him surrender to his desire. There wasn’t enough—not nearly enough. He’d groaned in pleasure but stayed still, allowing her to take her time and explore. Just before the dream had ended he’d promised to do the same to her. Just thinking about it had gotten her soaking wet.

He’d growled and started pumping into her mouth, telling her to get ready…

She’d woken writhing and sweaty, so close to climax she could almost taste it. He’d been venturing to the land below, his teeth raking against her skin, when her eyes opened and she greeted a new day. That was the last dream she’d had of him. She went to bed each night hoping for his return, only to wake horny and unsatisfied the next morning.

Now he was here—walking, breathing and very much real.

Jackson swept past her into his home. She admired his form as he strode by the living room and vanished around the corner. The place definitely belonged to a man. The flooring was dark wood with rugs throughout, the furniture made of black leather. A large plasma television was mounted on the far wall, enormous speakers bolted on each side of the room.

He reappeared with beer bottles in each hand. She took the one he extended to her, trying to get her hormones under control. He’d said he’d give her answers and explain what was taking place. For some strange reason, she did trust him. Who was she kidding? A part of her recognized him, even if it made no sense whatsoever. Everything that had transpired between them had been real.

They were dreams but weren’t.

How in the hell is that even possible?

He lifted the beer to his lips and she quickly did the same. The tang of the beverage hit her tongue, the flavor strong and somewhat bitter. She forced the drink down and lowered the bottle, staring at Jackson in disbelief. He didn’t stop drinking, his throat constricting with each swallow, until the bottle was empty. She gawked, unable to focus on anything but him. Another wave of heat rushed through her, making her lightheaded.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to give you what I promised, Chloe girl.” He lowered his hand and growled, gold eyes sweeping over her. “I’m trying real hard to be a gentleman but you’re testing my control.”

“I…” She tried to think of something to say, realizing she was alone with this gargantuan man inside his home. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not to mention he was a werewolf.

Not smart. Not smart at all.

“I think the best way to go about this is to tell you straight.” He met her gaze. “Give me your hand.”

She wasn’t sure which he wanted until he reached for her left wrist—the wrist with the birthmark. Before she could stop him he’d shoved her jacket back, revealing the crescent shape.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but I think you wanted a tattoo right here. Over this mark.”

Shit. How did he know that?

“Maybe,” she hedged, scrambling for the right thing to say. “Maybe not.”

His eyes slitted and he growled, “Don’t lie to me.”

“So what if I did?” Trying to feign indifference was impossible. The space felt too small with him in front of her. “It’s just a birthmark.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not just a birthmark. It’s the mark all wolves carry when they’re born. This means one of your parents is were,” he said and swept his thumb across the skin.

She clenched her teeth, trying not to groan. For the first time the mark didn’t burn. If anything his touch alleviated the sting, making the damn thing hum. A shiver ran through her, electric tingles starting where he touched and sweeping up her arm.

“You don’t have one.” Her eyes drifted over his body. During her dreams, she never saw anything aside from tattoos on his magnificent body.

“It’s here.” His fingers drifted to the hair behind his ear and he turned his head. Sure enough a small crescent shape was revealed, just below his hairline.

“This can’t be real.” Her heart raced, panic warring with desire. “There’s no way. I’d know if one of my parents could shift forms and howl at the moon.” She tried to yank her hand away.

“Apparently not.”

The amusement in his tone pissed her off. He might find the situation funny but she certainly didn’t. “Listen, Mr. Ego. I would know if—”

“I thought you were from one of the packs in the area when we started dreamsharing,” he continued as though he didn’t hear. “If you were human you wouldn’t have this. When I saw it, I assumed you knew what you are.” He caressed her birthmark, sending a flash of fire through the erogenous zones of her body. “There was no way to know you’re only half.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She pressed her thighs together, mortified when her sex started to throb. She should be terrified, not ready to fuck like a rabbit. Her nipples hardened into points, the lace of her bra becoming restricting and painful. “And I am human.”

“You’re half-human, and it’s not necessarily bad.” He lifted his head, his lips curving into a grin. “Just different. It changes the game a bit.”

“I hate to break it to you.” She considered shaking him. Here she was, off balance and agitated, and he was referring to the situation as a game? “But this isn’t Monopoly. Not even close. Do not pass go. No two hundred dollars for you.”

“Excuse me.” His wry grin should have made her furious. Not horny. “Bad choice of wording.”

“How about you tell me the truth?”

“You’re going through your first moon heat,” he whispered, moving closer, the warmth from his body radiating like a furnace. “That’s why you found me. You knew your time was near. It’s instinctual.”

Denying his explanation was her only defense, even though a part of her knew it was a barefaced lie. Something was occurring between them. No one had ever made her feel like this, turning everything she knew upside down and inside out.

“Maybe it’s instinctual for you but it isn’t for me,” she argued. “I didn’t come to find you. I came to get a tattoo. The dreams…our meeting…it’s serendipity.”

“Listen, sweetness.” He invaded her space, pressing his much larger body against hers. “You can keep lying to yourself but it won’t change what’s destined to happen. You came to me—you chose me.”

He released her hand and cupped her chin in his palm, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. His touch was gentle, his closeness comforting. It was hell not to squirm, to remain passive in his hold.

“Did you come to my shop for a particular reason? Or did you feel compelled to come there? Better yet, have you been feeling like yourself lately? Have you noticed changes you can’t explain?”

How did he expect her to answer those questions when he was so close she could almost taste him? His alluring scent called to her, tempting her to rip off his clothes to view the hard flesh beneath. Her eyes drifted closed as her heart thundered in her chest. She licked her lips, remembering how delicious he’d tasted, how wonderful it had felt when he’d circled his arms around her as their lips met in her dreams. A tidal wave seeped from her pussy, her clit so sensitive she wondered if she’d climax with a simple shift of her legs.

Pull yourself together. Answer him.

“I wanted to come to The Wolf’s Den,” she confessed, her voice shaky. “I don’t know why.”

When she tried to turn her head, he prevented her from doing so. His fingers were firm but gentle against her jaw. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” She forced her lids open, shocked to discover his eyes were no longer gold but almost yellow. “Tell me about your parents.”

Her parents? The shift in topic disoriented her for a moment. She quickly got her thoughts in order. “My mother died when I was a baby. I never knew my father. Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure this out.” He took a deep breath and asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” If he was going to ask questions, so was she. “How about you?”

His sexy, kissable lips formed into a sinful smile. “Old enough.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“The best you’re going to get right now,” he replied, his voice taking on a husky lilt. “Who raised you?”

God he was arrogant. Even worse? His attitude made her hotter.

“That hardly seems fair,” she snapped, increasingly annoyed.

“Answer me.” He wasn’t asking for an answer now, he was demanding one. His fingers tightened on her chin, his irises shifting color from yellow to amber.

“My grandparents. There. Happy?”

“Your mother’s parents?”

She nodded, finding it difficult to inhale. She wanted to remain angry but her entire body betrayed her. Ripples of desire scorched the inside of her skin. This was nothing like her dreams, where she’d had some measure of control. If he didn’t move away from her she’d tell him anything he wanted to know or do anything he told her to. Her pride didn’t mean squat, logical thought flying out the window.

“I should go.” Something inside her rebelled, hating the words, rejecting the possibility. “My family will be worried.”

“Your grandparents, I presume?” His voice felt as though it swept through her. No one had ever made her as edgy and aroused as this man. Not even close.

“Yes,” she whispered, clinging to his arms to remain on her feet.

Sexual need pounded at her, her blood drumming in her ears. In her fantasies she made love. She didn’t go buck wild, wanting to be fucked long and hard.

Until now.

“This isn’t like me.” She shook her head, trying to clear mental cobwebs woven with lust. “Something’s wrong. I don’t feel right.”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s the moon heat, and it’s only going to get worse. You’re in the early stages.”

He had to be joking. This was going to get worse? She was in the early stages?

“You should probably give me some space. I think I’m coming down with something.” That something being her ravenous libido, with his cock served on a platter as an entrée.

Damn. When did the room become so warm? Was it this difficult to breathe before?

Fear hit, rolling like thunder through her. What would happen if she let things progress between them? He obviously wanted her as much as she wanted him. What would the repercussions be if they spent a night together? Would her life ever be the same again?

“Shh, easy,” he murmured. “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe with me. I’m going to take care of you.”

She shook her head at his statement. They didn’t know each other—not really. Yes they’d shared dreams—extremely explicit and naughty dreams—but if she wanted to understand what was happening she had to take care of herself. She couldn’t depend on him for anything more than answers.

Her mind combated the champagne fizzles raging through her body, attempting to give her some semblance of restraint. She tingled in places she didn’t know existed, her nipples and pussy so hypersensitive she couldn’t stand it.

“I don’t even know you.” Like an annoying parrot, she kept repeating herself.

Way to go. Charm him with your dizzying intellect.

She wanted to wince, knowing she probably appeared as silly as she felt.

“Yes you do. I’d say over the last few weeks we’ve gotten to know each other extremely well.”

Her nails dug into his chest as her fingers curled. Wasn’t that the rub of it? She did know him. Technically—in her dreams, at least—they’d already gone past second base with a speedy rush for third.

“Remember the first time we met?” She trembled when his lips feathered over her forehead, the heat of his mouth warming her skin. “You were so nervous and tried to run from me. I thought you knew who and what I was to you. If I’d have known why you were scared I would have handled things differently.”

Memories assailed her, of the first time she’d met him in the land of dreams. It had been inside a bar. She’d found it odd, since she’d never been to a bar and had only seen them on television. He’d been leaning against a wall, as though he’d been waiting for her. She hadn’t been able see his face. Not that it mattered. She remembered the way her heart had pounded, how panic had set in even though she’d known it was only a dream.

She’d tried to run only to have her dream shift to another time and place.

This time she’d found herself in a sunny park. Empty swings had swayed back and forth, a sandbox nearby occupied with rambunctious toddlers and their doting parents. Jackson had been there as well, crouched a few feet away, studying her. He’d seemed so out of place, like a lethal creature in a safe haven parents took their children to play. When he started to stand, she’d jolted awake, but from that moment forward her dreams had never been the same.

He’d chased her night after night, a sexual game of cat and mouse. When he’d finally caught her—on the dance floor of the bar she’d fled, ironically enough—she’d been a more than willing victim. She recalled dancing in his arms, the rhythm of the music guiding their bodies. There was no fear. It was as if she’d finally found someone who understood her. A man whose arms felt like home. Afterward she craved sleep just to be close to him, to feel his body pressed against hers.

“It was real, Chloe,” he said, the words rumbling from his chest. “All of it.”

All of it.

The first few dreams were somewhat tame—transpiring in places she refused to get totally down and dirty—but during the last one they’d been alone in a bedroom. For the first time they’d removed their clothing, stripping each other bare. Instead of feeling his muscles bulge beneath her fingers, she’d finally seen them. He had been—and still remained—the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His large body was perfectly proportioned, his skin tan and smooth. She’d gone down on him because she couldn’t resist anymore. The temptation he’d presented had been too powerful to shake. She’d never forget his taste. The way he stretched her lips as he glided in and out of her mouth.

Her pussy spasmed at the memory, creating more wetness between her legs.

Damn it.

Her panties were soaking wet, clinging to swollen vaginal lips.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? It felt so good when you sucked my cock. Your mouth was so hot, baby. I want to look you in the eyes next time. I want to see how turned-on you are when you’re sucking me off.”

Holy mother.

In her dreams Jackson had loved to talk dirty. It had taken a few dreams to become accustomed to his explicit sexual vocalizations but she’d managed. A good thing since he apparently enjoyed doing the same thing in reality.

“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, caving to her body’s demands since she already had one foot in the door. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Or about you and your promise to do the same to me.

After two nights of waiting for Jackson to appear in her dreams, her curiosity about what it would be like had gotten the better of her. She’d hesitantly touched herself in the shower, imagining it was Jackson’s tongue caressing her clit, his mouth suckling on her flesh. Unfortunately she’d stopped just shy of an orgasm, becoming uncomfortably aware of herself and what she was doing. She’d stopped, feeling embarrassed and uncertain. One foray into masturbation had taken her back several years, to another time and place.

At seventeen she’d had one sexual encounter—a rushed pairing with an equally awkward boy from her English class. They’d parted ways immediately after, avoiding each other if at all possible. She didn’t know if he was embarrassed by his performance or didn’t want a repeat of hers. Either way it didn’t matter. His touch had felt all wrong, even when she tried to relax and enjoy what they were doing. From that moment forward she wasn’t interested in sex or men.

Then Jackson had come along and changed everything.

Each wisp of his fingers against her sensitive skin made her melt inside, creating tendrils of heat that built in her stomach. She lifted her head, meeting his glowing eyes. A simple look from the man made her insides puddle. There was nothing insecure or awkward about Jackson. He knew exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it.

And she realized she wanted him to take it from her.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” His body brushed hers. She felt the hard length of his erection prod her belly. “I’m going to take you to my room and make you burn. I’m going to make you so hot you’ll think you’re dying from the pleasure of it. This isn’t a dream. You’re going to get all of me, Chloe. All of me.”

Oh boy.

She tried to argue when he cut her off, his fingers sliding from her chin and latching on to the hair at her nape. He pulled her head back, maintaining eye contact.

“We’ll sort the details out later. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself.”

Then he kissed her, lips soft but demanding, his tongue lashing out to tease the cavern of her mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible to swoon but swoon she did. Her knees buckled, the warmth from his body seeping into hers. His hand drifted down and he palmed her ass, squeezing just hard enough that she groaned. She’d forgotten what a master he was with his fingers, how expertly he put them to use.

“So sweet and hot,” he growled into her mouth, yanking her forward and rolling his hips, making the world crumble around her. “And all fucking mine.”

He’d tried to do the right thing. Chloe deserved answers, not the mindless fucking he had in mind. The beautiful female was confused. She was scared. But she was also turned-on. Hell, she’d been turned-on since the moment their skin had collided. Her scent called to him as no other’s had. Tomorrow he could tell her everything she wanted to know. For now he had to calm her fears and show her he would take care of her, regardless of the cost.

He basked in her taste—sweet as sugar and tempting as sin. Her soft curves molded to him, her rounded ass the perfect size for his hand. She whimpered as he squeezed the giving flesh, his fingers digging into her jeans. Tugging her forward, he thrust his cock against her stomach and rolled his hips. The beast in him wanted to yank down her pants, force her onto her hands and knees and fuck her madly from behind.

Not yet.

She yelped when he lifted her and carried her in the direction of the bedroom. He caught the sound in his mouth, growling in pleasure as her surprise turned to hunger. Her lips parted and their tongues danced—touching, teasing and drifting apart. He’d be lucky if he didn’t come with his first taste of her, undone by the sweetness of her pussy as he lapped at her slit. He could smell her—hot, honeyed and primed for the taking.

They entered his bedroom and he headed for the bed. He carefully lowered her to the mattress, bringing his body over hers, forcing her knees apart so he could slide his hips between her thighs. He could feel the heat of her cunt through his jeans. The scent of her arousal tickled his nose. The white glow from the moon slithered through the curtains and caressed her face, the shadows on the bed a combination of black and gray. Her irises changed color, shifting from grassy green to vibrant emerald in the light.

“I’m gonna eat you up,” he growled against her lips, nipping gently. “I want to hear every little noise you make.”

She helped him tug off her jacket, violent as she ripped the material from her torso. He felt her fingers shaking when their hands met, her lithe body squirming beneath him. She was eager and ready as he was. When they’d first started dreamsharing, she’d been nervous and inhibited during their sexual interludes. Now—real, willing and in his arms—the minx was wild and out of control.

Just the way I want her.

Somehow he managed to remove her sweater without tearing the downy cotton, pulling it over her head along with an equally soft camisole. He bit back a curse when he saw her bra, her hard pink nipples visible through lace. After he removed the skimpy garment, he took a moment to appreciate the view.

Her flawless skin reflected the rays of the moon—pale, silky and smooth. Her breasts were full and lush, nipples hard and waiting to be touched. Before the night was over he intended to leave love bites all over her creamy flesh, including one on the fleshy portion of her throat and shoulder for the world to see.

My woman. My mate.

A surge of possessiveness seared through him. The wolf wanted to come inside her and mark Chloe with its scent so that every werewolf she encountered would know she was taken. A good thing, because the man wanted the same thing. He couldn’t wait to feel the clasp of his mate’s pussy around his cock, to finally learn just how hot and tight she’d be.

He popped the button to her jeans and started yanking on the zipper when she stopped him, her voice husky. “Wait.”

Everything in him rebelled, the wolf fighting for dominance, wanting to fuck its female until they were gasping for breath, bodies covered in the smell of sex. Only the bitter smell of fear quieted the animal, allowing the man to take control. He had to be tender with her.

Forcing the primal emotions aside, he struggled to put Chloe’s needs first. He didn’t take his fingers away from the zipper but he stopped the downward motion of his hand.

“Easy.” He attempted to calm her, peering into her eyes.

Her irises were even lighter now, the portion of her that responded to his wolf riding the line. He understood her terror then, becoming aware of the source of her anxiety. Along with the fragrance of fear was the musky call of her arousal—her wolf’s arousal.

She didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—what she was experiencing.

Lowering his head and brushing his nose against hers, he softened his voice, gentling her with words. “You’re hurting, aren’t you, baby? You want me so bad you ache with it. Don’t be afraid. I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it. You’re safe with me. I give you my word.”

“This is wrong,” she moaned, arching her hips and pressing her mound against his fingers. “I should make you stop.”

Like hell. “How is this wrong?”

Against his better judgment, he lifted his hand and slid his fingers beneath the lacy trim of her panties. As he’d known, her pussy was drenched. He slid the pads of his fingers against the swollen crease, coating them with her cream, gliding up and down her slit.

“Do you want me to go down on you, Chloe girl? You’re so ready I can practically taste you.” When he slid his fingers free she cried out. “I’m going to do everything you’ve dreamed about and then some.”

Since she was nervous about removing her clothing, he decided to even the score. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled his T-shirt over his head. The brisk air hit his skin, cooling the sensitized flesh. He considered ordering Chloe to lick his chest, to tease him as she’d done in their dreams, but he didn’t. Right now he had to keep stoking the fire. She wanted him, she just didn’t know how much.

Not yet.

He brought his torso down so their stomachs collided—fair skin clashing with tan, softness cushioning muscle. Her hesitancy vanished, her small hands drifting up to clutch his arms. He couldn’t prevent the growl that crept up his throat or the way he thrust his hips against her. The moment he’d entered Chloe’s dreams she’d put her mark on him. He was useless to other females, meaning he’d had to take care of his own needs. It had only been a matter of time until they met but he’d never thought it would be like this. With her sweet and soft in his arms, trusting him even though she wasn’t aware of the eccentricities involved when mating with a shifter.

“I’m going to start here.” He pulled at her underwear and jeans, intentionally skimming the back of his hand against her burning pussy. “And work my way up.”

This time she didn’t protest, aiding him by lifting her pelvis. The delicate curve of her stomach flexed, displaying the tender, toned muscles of her abdomen. After he slid off her shoes and socks, he removed her jeans. She was as lean as he remembered, her shape that of a female werewolf, although less muscular than most—lithe and strong, trim and curved in all the right places.

His gaze rested on her sex, his wolf howling in pleasure at the sight of trimmed blonde curls. The lips of her cunt were swollen and pink. Her flesh glistened in the light coming through the window, her hard clit pushing free of its hood.

His fangs lengthened, his heart drumming in his chest. He was going to leave his imprint all over her, covering her with his scent, marking her soft skin with his teeth. She was seductive and inviting, waiting for him to make the next move. He paused over her mound, blowing softly against her weeping flesh.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned and clutched the comforter. “Please.”

“I won’t.” His growl filled the room, the wolf eager to claim its mate. He lowered his head, guided by his nose and the fragrance of her cunt. “I’m going to please you all night long. And this time, you won’t be dreaming.”

On some level Chloe knew what she was doing was inappropriate. She was in the bed of a stranger—someone she only knew from her dreams. She understood that, had even contemplated it when her head cleared and she tried to rationalize what she was experiencing. But she couldn’t stop.

God help her. She didn’t want him to stop.

“Jackson,” she whispered, making sure he was real and not a figment of her imagination. Her body was on fire, her nipples and pussy more sensitive than they’d ever been in her life. Even the chilled temperature of the room felt painful brushing against her naked skin.

“Hold on, baby.”

His breath caressed her skin, whispering over the lips of her sex. Before she could respond his hot, wet tongue glided along her seam. One long, deliberate lick parted the lips of her vagina. Fiery wisps followed his touch, leaving an impression behind. She arched her back, fisting the blanket beneath her hands, crying out at the amazing sensation.

He pulled away, licking his lips. “You’re so fucking sweet.”

She was ready to beg for more when he dipped his head a second time. His tongue worked its magic, licking up and down her slit, soothing the burn in her pussy, replacing it with dizzying tingles. He changed the motion, alternating with long strokes between her labia and shallow plunges at the mouth of her sex. Warmth spread from her belly, engulfing her in a sexual fog.

Yes. Oh yes.

This was what she’d dreamed about, what she’d waited so long for. Up and down he licked, growling as he did, his fingers digging into her ass. She didn’t think the feeling could get any better until he scooted up and the cavern of his mouth surrounded her clit. She writhed on the bed when he started to suck, caught in a maelstrom of desire and want. His tongue flicked the supersensitive nub, moving hard and fast.

Stars flashed before her eyes, a fireball erupting from the inside out. Loud shrills echoed in her ears, droning on and on. It wasn’t until the sound softened that she realized she was crying out, her own voice sounding far away. Something stirred inside her, cautiously emerging. It reached out to the man giving her pleasure, wanting to make him a part of her. She started to question what she felt when Jackson snarled, the sound sexy although it should have been frightening.

“Again.” Jackson lapped at her wet folds, whipping his tongue up and down. “Come for me again.”

She gasped when she felt his finger rubbing against the entrance of her pussy, gathering moisture before pressing inside. If she’d thought his tongue felt amazing, the pressure of his thick finger parting her was incredible. The spark of something coming to life grew. A new, uninhibited portion of her wanted more.

A scent filled her nose—wild and delicious.

She drew a deep breath and realized it was coming from Jackson. He’d already smelled wonderful but now…it was so, so good. Her mouth watered, taste buds coming to life, eager for a sample of his cock. She wanted to feel the weight of his erection in her mouth, was desperate to savor him in reality and not in a dream.

As though he was aware of her desires, he pulled away and looked at her. His irises were no longer human, glowing in the dark, muscles rock hard and tense. He could tear her apart if he changed, was capable of ripping her throat in two with his teeth. She should have been scared to death, not ready to flip him over so she could reciprocate the oral stimulation.

“Don’t even think about it, mate,” he murmured, studying her while his finger glided into her sex, the pads rubbing against the clasping walls as though searching for something. “You’ll take what I want to give you. I know what you need. Don’t test the wolf. Not yet.”

Test the wolf? It wasn’t in her nature to flirt with danger. Yes, she’d come to his tattoo shop. But she hadn’t known it would lead to this.

Had she?

Yes, a voice stirred to life inside of her, startling in its intensity. You did.

“Easy, Chloe girl.”

He stroked her thigh with his free hand and she arched her back, wanting to feel his hand traveling over her skin, fueling the fire blasting through her veins. The finger lodged inside her rubbed against a spot that caused her to whimper. Jackson growled louder, thrusting his finger into her moist heat, hitting that tender area over and over again. Then he brought his mouth to her sex, teasing her with licks and nips, the tip of his tongue traveling along her lips.

Vibrations started in her belly, raging through her torso and limbs, making it impossible to remain still. The hand at her thigh moved. Jackson splayed his fingers over her stomach, keeping her in place as he laved her pussy. The sharp edge of his teeth scraped the vulnerable tissue, creating an oddly pleasurable pain. When he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked her body became pure light, shattering into a million tiny pieces. She thrashed on the bed, releasing the covers and burying her fingers in his hair. The flicks of his tongue eased but he didn’t relent, extending her orgasm, taking her higher.

It shouldn’t have been possible but the mind-blowing feeling repeated itself. Another climax took the place of the first, the sensations stronger this time. She screwed her eyes shut, crying out, grasping his hair and holding on to him like an anchor. Wave upon wave of bliss caressed her, hot and electric, rushing through her like exploding sparks of fire.

The dizzying storm slowly faded, leaving her panting and spent. Jackson pressed one final kiss to her pussy. He left a trail of kisses along the delicate bones of her pelvis, skimming his lips over her stomach, his tongue darting out to tease her navel. She sighed, pulling him closer, basking in the feel of his warm skin and the careful way he pulled his finger from her still-clenching depths.

“Did that take the edge off?” He nuzzled her breast, the bristle on his chin skimming over her pointed nipple.

Did it ever. “Mmm hmm.”

His mouth hovered over her areola, his breath hot against the pebbled disk. “Then you’re right where I want you.”

He thrust his hips, burying his crotch into the vee of her thighs as he sucked her nipple. She nearly came apart when she felt the hard ridge of his cock through the denim. She’d touched the thick, elongated length in her dreams. She’d even put the broad, mushroomed head into her mouth and sucked it like a lollipop. But in person he felt bigger, hotter and more dangerous.

Satiation ebbed, taken over by another flare of heat. The ache inside her returned, an emptiness that craved more. She frowned, freezing beneath the large man above her, trying not to focus on the delicious motions of his tongue and the fiery wetness of his mouth. She’d just come three times, taken to a heavenly place that sent her soaring.

Wanting more—needing more—didn’t make sense.

Jackson released her breast, lifted his head and met her gaze. Her confusion vanished, a foreign instinct slamming into place. His nostrils flared, bright amber-hued eyes intense. His fingers caressed her side, winding along her breast. He cupped her face in his palm.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, unable to look away.

“Tell me. I need to hear it.”

She was playing with fire but she knew what she wanted and craved. If he left her now, she’d go mad. The intensity of her need clawed at her, a primal nature she didn’t know existed tearing its way to the surface.

“I want you.”

He lifted away so quickly she didn’t have the chance to cling to his muscular form. She came onto her knees, prepared to pounce on him, when he bent at the waist and removed his boots and peeled off his socks. His jeans clung to his body, his hard cock clearly visible. Her heart stuttered for a moment then started to race. The damp heat between her legs increased. Popping the button fly, he moved toward the bed. A thin trail of dark hair ran from his navel down.

“Get me ready, baby. I want to feel that sweet mouth of yours.”

Licking her lips, she inched closer, watching as he tugged at the jeans and his cock sprang free. She hesitated, stunned at how much larger he was in reality, long and swollen, veins bulging beneath the skin. The head was darker in color and broader than the base. The sexual portion of her arose again, suffocating her fear, urging her forward.

Her fingers barely met when she wrapped them around the silken flesh at the root, a steady pulse beating against her palm. She started slow, darting her tongue along the crown, collecting the shimmering bead that appeared at the thin slit in the head. His taste burst on her tongue—salty, masculine and all Jackson. She opened her lips and took him into her mouth, sucking at the tip, rubbing her tongue along the underside of his cock.

He hissed and wrapped his fingers in her hair. “That’s it. Fuck.” She nearly panicked when he hit the back of her throat and she started to gag. He held her in place, his voice a low growl. “Swallow.”

Tears burned her eyes but she managed to do as he said. He groaned and pulled away, returning for more of the same. “Relax your throat and breathe through your nose. Show me how much you want me. Take me, Chloe. Take me deep.”

She bobbed her head, taking him as far as she could. She forced herself to constrict her throat, swallowing although it took effort each time he thrust into her mouth. He settled into a rhythm, slow and steady, rocking his hips.

“Just like that. Just. Like. That.”

Bolstered by his reaction, she kept up the pace, worshipping his cock with her mouth and hands. She timed it so her fingers glided along his swollen shaft with each retreat. She squeezed her fingers, tasting a hint of his semen, the flavor salty and tart. She moaned when she imagined him coming like this, forcing her to swallow him down. Instead of being repulsed, the idea appealed to a side of her that had just breathed new life.

Taste him. Claim him. Make him yours.

Her birthmark flared at the thought, burning white-hot. She started to pull away, lowering her hand to rub at the stinging spot on her wrist. Jackson tugged at her hair and his erection slid from her lips. There was no preamble, no soft petting. He thrust her onto the bed, her head landing on the softness of the pillows. Then he was there, coming over her body, all muscle, tanned skin and unforgettable features.

His hand trembled as he fisted his cock and slid it along her wet cleft. “Do you accept me, Chloe?”

It wasn’t just sex he was asking for. This was something deeper and more profound. The part of her that craved Jackson in all ways roared the answer in her head, repeating it over and over. Pure sexual desire pulsed within her, making her nipples harden and her pussy weep. Confused and shaken, she acknowledged the chorus in her mind, knowing she didn’t have another choice.

“Yes.”

The broad head brushed past the folds of her sex and dipped inside. She arched her back, wanting more of him. The burn in her wrist continued, as though the skin had been recently branded with the mark, the small area of flesh tingling painfully.

“Look at me,” he ordered, the words a low growl.

Their gazes met. She didn’t turn away, looking him in the eye as he plunged deeper into her body. Her pussy stretched, unaccustomed to his size and length, making way for his entry. There was no pain, only an incredible fullness as he slid deeper. Dimly she realized he wasn’t using protection and that he needed to put on a condom. Before she could ask him to stop he slammed his hips forward, burying himself within her, the head of his cock bumping her cervix.

“I knew you’d be like this,” he rasped, staying still, his length pulsing inside her. “So hot and tight. Squeezing me like a fist. You’re going to burn me alive.”

Bringing her hands up, she buried his fingers in his biceps. Like this, she couldn’t tell where she started and he ended. They were simply one, connected in the most intimate way. Their skin collided, the smoothness of his chest teasing her nipples. She mewled and rubbed against him, aching in ways she couldn’t describe.

She couldn’t prevent a panicked gasp when he pulled away, the thickness against her vaginal walls retreating. She lowered her fingers, running them down his back to his buttocks. Before she could force him back he thrust into her, the weight of his testicles slapping her ass. White speckles dotted her vision, the pleasure so intense she couldn’t stand it. Nothing existed in that moment—no worries for what she was doing, no concern about the pain in her wrist or the fact she was having sex with a virtual stranger.

He’s not a stranger, the raging beast inside her corrected. He’s ours.

There was no reason to argue or try to convince herself otherwise. This moment did feel right, as though it was always meant to be. Jackson’s scent slammed into her nose, making her clit throb. She’d never get enough of the way he brought her to life, of how amazing he made her feel.

“Damn you feel good.” His voice was hoarse, the words thick with lust. He grasped her hips, holding her in place. “Hold on, baby. I’m about to make you scream.”

Then he was moving in and out, forceful and steady. Each spear into her vagina hit a sweet spot, making heat build in her belly. Her nails scraped along his ass, urging him on as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. Just when she thought she’d fall over the edge he brought his hand between their bodies and found her clit, clever fingers pinching and massaging the bundle of nerves.

He pulled out and returned—harder this time. She cried out, rotating her pelvis, reaching for the ecstasy he could give her. Two more thrusts and the expert glide of his fingers sent her soaring.

She fought for breath, consumed by the fire that spread through her body as he moved faster. Electric prickles ventured from her pussy to her stomach, working their way up her torso. Her nipples were more sensitive now, making the pressure of his chest against hers almost unbearable.

When the last spasms faded she sagged against the pillows. To her shock he pulled her up and rolled her over, situating her on her hands and knees.

“Not yet,” he whispered, lining up his cock and carefully edging into her.

He didn’t thrust into her pussy this time. He rammed his cock into her, nudging her cervix, forcing her toward the head of the bed. She grasped the rails on the headboard, using them for balance, biting her lip as the agonizing fire in her birthmark increased. Jackson moved over her, trapping her beneath him. She felt him move her hair aside, his lips whispering over her shoulder. Then she felt his tongue bathing the area, the flicks soft but insistent.

His teeth sank deeply into her skin. The sharp, piercing pain had her crying out.

“Mine,” Jackson growled, the word muffled by his lips against her flesh.

One last thrust and she felt his length jerking inside her, a hot splash filling her pussy. He didn’t release her, biting harder, hammering into her with enough force that her knees started to shake. In an instant the burn in her wrist vanished. There was no ache, no horrible prickling sensation. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, trying to remain upright. Suddenly he went still, chest heaving against her back, his sweat-slicked skin rubbing against her.

She hissed when he pulled his teeth from her shoulder, leaving behind a dull throb. He murmured something she couldn’t make out and laved the sore area with his tongue, taking his time, soothing the ravaged flesh. A part of her wanted to hide her face in the pillows when he pulled his cock from her swollen and protesting pussy. She whimpered, unprepared for how sore she felt. Her sex pulsed, aching from the rough use although she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He fell to his side and took her with him, spooning her much smaller frame with his. Their labored breathing filled the silence of the room, hard exhalations slowly evening out. Now that the sexual haze that had taken her over was gone she was embarrassed by her behavior. But beneath the embarrassment there was a level of contentment and peace. The way he held her made her feel safe, the smooth brush of his fingers over her hip reassuring.

“Rest,” Jackson ordered softly. “I’m not finished with you.”

Closing her eyes, she basked in his touch and the heat of his body. The night belonged to them. Tomorrow she could ask questions and accept the consequences of her actions. Since she was a child she’d always done as she was told, behaving like the good girl her grandparents expected her to be. For one evening she would embrace what she’d always wanted but had never experienced.

She’d explore everything Jackson wanted to show her.

And she’d enjoy every minute of it.

For the first time, she was going to know what it was like to really live.