Blood Wolf (Vintage Collection) - Page 8

“I will leave you alone, but we will share this bed.”

He lifted his shirt over his head and threw it over a chair. She gulped in a sharp breath. His chest was golden and beautiful, pure muscle accented by a smattering of black hair. Suzanne instinctively looked away as he began to unbuckle his jeans.

“No.” He cupped her face, forcing her gaze onto his. “I need you to look at me. To see me.”

As if in a trance, Suzanne stared as Damian slowly removed his shoes, jeans, and boxers. His cock sprang from a curly black nest. Perfectly formed. Beautiful. She resisted the urge to reach for it.

“Now you,” he said. “Undress.”

“I can’t.”

“Aye, you can. I need to see you.”

She edged away slowly. “I’ll just go to the bathroom, and—”

“You’ll undress here.” He grasped her arm. His touch was forceful, yet gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I would never harm you, mo cridhe. I swear on my life.”

Suzanne shivered as she slowly pulled her tank top over her head. Next, she kicked off her sandals and lowered her jeans, until she stood before Damian in her bra and panties.

“Very beautiful.” There was no mistaking the lust in his hazel eyes. “The rest, please.”

Her hands shaking, Suzanne reached behind her, unclasped her bra, discarded it, and let her ample breasts fall gently against her chest. Damian sucked in his breath. She hadn’t been worried. She knew her boobs were spectacular. But the panties concerned her. Her thick and bushy pubic hair had been a source of contention between her and Wade. He had wanted her to shave and trim it into a neat little strip, but she had always refused.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said gently, as if sensing her unease.

His words consoled her, and it seemed natural to ease her pink panties over her hips and let them drop to the floor. She stood before him, naked and vulnerable. Her heart nearly stopped as she waited for his appraisal.

He stepped toward her, cupped her breasts, and gently rubbed his calloused thumbs over her nipples. One hand trailed down her belly to her mound. He laced his fingers through the thick hair, his breathing heavy, his cock engorged. “Perfect,” he said gruffly. “Perfect, mo cridhe.”

“Now what?”

He kissed her softly on the cheek. “Now, I hold you next to my body. We share our heat, our intimacy.” He brushed his lips over hers. “And we sleep.” He lifted her and laid her gently on the bed. He crawled in beside her and cuddled her in his arms.

Suzanne lay still, nestled in the comfort of this mysterious man. The light fleece of his chest tickled her nipples. She felt safe. After what had nearly happened to her, she needed this sense of security. He had saved her, and now he protected her.

She listened to the hypnotic rhythm of his breath and soon fell into slumber beside him.

5

When Suzanne awoke, Damian lay on his side, his hand propping up his head as he stared at her. His smoking eyes scalded her naked flesh.

“Good morning, Suzanne.”

“Good morning.” The light of dawn streamed through her window and illuminated the fascinating man next to her. He had seemed handsome last night, but now, bathed in the sun’s rays, he stole her breath.

Several dark curls fell over his forehead. Suzanne instinctively reached out to smooth them but stopped midway, embarrassed.

Damian clutched her hand and led it to his face. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I just…your hair is in your eyes.” She pushed the offending locks behind his ear. His tresses felt sleek and velvety beneath her fingers. She whisked her hand away.

He smiled and held out his arms to her. “Come to me. Please, mo cridhe.”

Her heart lurched, and a flutter surged between her legs. Oh God, I want him. She glanced at his mouth—such a sensuous full-lipped mouth that promised endless delights—and then into his eyes. The jade irises were swirling again, as they had when he had attacked her assailants.

Odd. Very odd. But arousing.

“Come,” he said. “Just a hug. Please.”

One hug wouldn’t hurt, would it? He was so gorgeous, and that body… She had never seen such a well-formed man. She leaned into his embrace.

“Ah, love,” he said, his deep voice husky. “That feels nice.”

Damian pulled her close and caressed her shoulders and her back. She reciprocated and ran her hands over the definition of his upper arms and then up his neck and into his beautiful hair.

He buried his nose in her tangled mass of hair and inhaled. “Mmm.”

What was this fascination he had with her scent? Suzanne didn’t understand, but at the moment, her body ached with the need to touch every part of him. She slid her hands along his neck, over his muscular shoulders, and onto his back. But where she expected more of his smooth skin, raised and jagged bumps met her fingertips.

Tags: Helen Hardt Paranormal
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