A Werewolf in Manhattan (Wild About You #1)(24)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

If she couldn’t satisfy her craving for him, she could at least satisfy her curiosity.

“When you shift from a human to a werewolf, what does that feel like?”

“It depends on how long I have to go through the process. Ideal y, I can anticipate having to shift and al ow plenty of time. Tonight that wasn’t the case, so tomorrow I’m going to be a little sore.”

“And you can shift at will , no matter what the moon phase is?” Could he shift now, while she was holding on to his leg? But she wouldn’t ask that of him. This wasn’t a parlor trick.

“The moon’s no longer a factor for us. It was centuries ago, but we’ve learned quite a bit about how the physiology works, and we’re no longer dependent on the moon.”

So he was capable of shifting at any time. That was both exciting and intimidating.

“When I created my werewolves, I wanted them to shift whenever they chose to.

The story wouldn’t move very fast if they only shifted every twenty-eight days.”

“I remember how impressed I was when I read your first book and saw that you’d set it up that way.”

She couldn’t believe they were calmly discussing the reality of shape-shifting. Last night she’d had sex with a werewolf. Doggy-style. That took on new meaning, now.

Erotic meaning. “What mind-body control you must have.” She realized that she’d begun stroking his leg and stopped immediately.

“Most of the time, I have control.” His breath hissed out between his teeth, and he pul ed his leg from her grasp. “That’s enough. I’m fine.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He edged toward the bathroom door. I’m just—you don’t have to—maybe I should get dressed.”

“Aidan, you look as if you’re in pain. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’l go to my room and grab some clothes.”

She scrambled to her feet and fol owed him. “Use the hotel robe instead. You need to bandage your leg. I’l cal room service and have some first aid supplies sent up.”

He whirled. “Don’t fol ow me, Emma!”

“Aidan?” She looked closer. His chest hair was thicker now than it had been a minute ago. Her pulse jumped. “Are you … shifting?”

“Yes, damn it, I am. This doesn’t happen to al werewolves. Just me. It’s a genetic defect. If I become aroused and frustrated, I start to shift.”

She glanced at the toWellaround his waist and noted the tenting effect. Knowing what lay beneath that terry cloth created a corresponding ache in her womb. “But if you have sex?”

“Satisfaction reverses the process. But considering the evening’s events, sex isn’t what either of us needs right now.”

She swal owed. God, but he excited her. “Speak for yourself. Considering the evening’s events, a little sexual release sounds like a wonderful idea to me.”

“It will only complicate things more.”

“Or simplify them. Your choice, of course, but if you’d rather reverse the process with my help, I’l be in my bedroom. Naked.”

She turned and walked back through the doorway, stepping over the shattered remains of what was once a door. Then she paused and glanced back at him. “This time you won’t have to break down a door to get to me.”

Her scent telegraphed her readiness and gave him a trail to fol ow. Every wolf instinct drove him forward, but reason held him back. He stil had no plan. In the morning he’d have to alert the pack that security had been breached—his fault, mostly. Then he’d have to lay out a procedure for handling that breach.

He needed to think, to plan, to strategize. Both Em-ma’s future and his depended on how he handled this situation. Losing himself in the wonders of her body wouldn’t help him figure that out, and it might cloud his mind.

Check that. It would definitely cloud his mind. When confronted with the powerful aphrodisiac that was Em-ma’s essence, he struggled to remember his own name.

The more he al owed himself to succumb to that heady feeling, the more complicated the problem became.

But her scent … How could he ignore that siren cal ? Lifting his head, he sniffed the air. The rustle of clothing would have told him, as Well, but his nose gave him the first indication that she was undressing, just as she’d promised.

His bal s tightened, and his c*ck grew hard. He knew the moment she slipped off her panties because her scent swirled around her and drifted through that open door, inviting him inside, inviting him to take her.

Once she’d announced her will ingness, both in words and the seductive sway of her body as she’d left the room, his shift had begun to reverse. If he turned away from her and denied himself, the shift would resume. He’d spend precious moments trying to subdue his sexual urges and retain his human shape, moments he could il afford to lose.

Was bedding her the most efficient use of his time and energy, then? He considered that with a self-mocking smile. But the thought had merit.

Once he’d satisfied this craving, he’d be free to tackle the problems at hand. He’d be able to focus, whereas now—now his brain was fil ed with the red haze of lust.

She’d asked him to take her, requested the release for herself. She’d suffered a shock, and he was the cause of that shock. Easing her tension was the least he could do, under the circumstances. Granting her wish would be a kindness. And he was a kind being. Oh, yes. Very kind. He smiled again, amused at his ability to rationalize what he’d known al along he would do.

He pictured her lying in that big bed, her golden hair fanned across the pil ow, her creamy thighs spread in welcome. Come morning, he’d have to abandon al thoughts of sinking into her warmth. But it was not morning yet.

With a low growl, he ripped the toWellfrom his waist and strode into the bedroom.

She’d left a smal lamp on the dressing table turned on. The room was cast in shadow, and shadows were his element.

“Hel o, Aidan.”

“Hel o, Emma.” He gazed at her lying on the bed almost exactly as he’d imagined.

Resting one knee on the mattress, he leaned down to claim her mouth. He’d taken her in wolf fashion the night before, but he would be more careful this time. He’d possess her the way a man possessed a woman. That might keep the bonds from becoming too strong.

Slowly he stroked her br**sts as he continued to kiss her lips, angling his head, using his tongue, nibbling and tasting, finding traces of chocolate, of coffee, and most of al , of hot desire. She tunneled her fingers through his hair and gripped the back of his head, rising to meet his kisses.

He gave thanks that he had command of a man’s body, as Wellas the form of a wolf. Without a man’s body, he wouldn’t be able to savor this prelude, this dance of mouths that taunted them both with what was to come. He wouldn’t have hands with which to fondle, fingers to rub and squeeze.

Sometimes, when his wolf nature was dominant, he became impatient with foreplay. Tonight he cherished Emma’s sighs of pleasure as he played upon her voluptuous body.

When her n**ples grew tight and her br**sts lifted into his caress, he swept his hand downward over her flat stomach to her soft curls and onward to the heat that had brought him here. As he touched her there, sliding his fingers inside her wet channel, the urge to join with her became a driving force, an ache so strong that his pelvis jerked in reaction.

Her moan of need echoed his own. Her rapid breathing and restless h*ps told him it was time.

She wrenched her mouth free of his. “Condoms.” She gulped for air. “Bedside table.”

He kissed her again as anticipation unfurled within him. He hadn’t considered this consequence of the night’s events, but now that Emma knew what he was, he was free to experience sex without a latex barrier. “There’s no need for condoms.”

“But—”

“I couldn’t tel you before.” He dropped kisses on her cheeks, her throat, her br**sts. “I can’t make you pregnant.”

“Whoa, big boy.” She cupped his face in both hands. Breathing hard, she nevertheless delivered her message. “That sounds like a line of bul .” She took another quick breath. “We used one last night.”

“You thought I was human last night.”

“You’re very much like a human right now.”

“But not the same.”

Her words were fil ed with the strain of curbing her excitement. “So you can’t make babies?”

“Not unless we’re mated.”

“Mated?”

“In the werewolf sense, for life.”

She looked doubtful.

“Trust me.”

“That’s what they al say.”

“In my case, it’s true. You can trust me.” He moved between her thighs and probed gently with the tip of his cock. “Wil you trust me, Emma?”

She met his gaze, her kiss-swol en lips parted as she took rapid, shal ow breaths.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

For a brief moment, he was humbled by her surrender. Then the demands of his body sent him surging forward, thrusting deep, burying his quivering c*ck in her wet warmth.

Murmuring her name, he withdrew and drove in again. Once again the sensation of gliding into her with nothing between them but their own slick moisture made him gasp in delight. The glorious friction prompted him to pump again.

He groaned. Sliding his hands under her bottom, he cupped her satin skin and pushed in as far as he could go until they were locked in tight. “Emma, this is …”

Her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed, she lifted her h*ps to create an even tighter bond. “Great.”

“Yes.”

She mirrored him, cupping his buttocks in her warm hands, pressing her fingers into him. “I can feel you quiver. I can feel the shape of your cock.”

“I can feel when you contract around me.” He rotated his h*ps gently. “Like that.”

She whimpered. “Again.”

He moved in the opposite direction and watched excitement grow in her expressive eyes. Easing back, he slid forward again.

“Mmm. More.”

He didn’t need to be asked. The intense pleasure of thrusting into her pushed him onward. He moved faster now, greedy for the increasingly erotic sensation of skin against skin. The juicy aroma of sex fil ed the air and the slap slap slap of bodies melded with the creak of the bed and the thump of the headboard against the wal .

As she tightened around his cock, he watched her eyes darken. His wolf senses would know when she neared her cli**x, but he craved the sound of her voice.

“Talk to me, Emma.” He pumped steadily as her body quivered beneath his. “Are you coming?”

“Soon.” She gasped and clutched him tighter.

“I can see it in your eyes. I can feel you rising, reaching … ah, Emma … come for me …”

“There … harder … right … there. ” Crying out, she lifted her h*ps as her spasms milked him, coaxing him to surrender to the cli**x that he’d fought to keep at bay until now. With a groan he drove into her once, twice, and shuddered as the pulsing of his c*ck rode the ripples of her orgasm.

As his body quieted, he settled against her, careful not to give her his ful weight, but longing to touch every inch of skin he could reach. Tomorrow he would face the wrath of his pack, but tonight he’d been given a gift—ful -out sex with Emma. He would never have had that if she hadn’t learned what he was.

Tonight, his heart was fil ed with gratitude and something more, something that should frighten him. But he was too happy. Tomorrow perhaps he’d be frightened by his growing connection to her. But not tonight. Burying his nose against her neck, he breathed in with one thought: she was his.

Chapter 19

For the second morning in a row, Emma woke up alone in her bed while the spot next to her was stil warm. But she had a feeling this morning would be nothing like any morning she’d ever experienced in her life. True, Aidan had been a werewolf yesterday, but she hadn’t known it. Today she did.

She smel ed coffee. A quick lift of her head to check out the dressing table confirmed that the coffee was in the living room, along with Aidan. She could hear his voice. He was probably on the phone again. Was he talking to Nadia?

A hot stab of jealousy made her realize how possessive she’d become. And that was foolish because Aidan’s life had been planned from birth. Besides, she had more immediate problems than whether Aidan would eventual y marry Nadia and produce little werewolves.

What were they like, the little ones? Could they shift from birth or did they develop the ability later? In the world of her books, werewolves looked like human children until puberty. The onset of sexual maturity gave them the ability to shift, and they went through an awkward phase while they learned to manage their wolf status.

If she’d guessed right, then teenage werewolves had it way worse than teenage humans. Besides raging hormones and zits, they had to deal with hair and fangs.

She wondered how Aidan had managed, considering his genetic defect. Puberty must have been torture for him.

The curtains were stil drawn over the window, and the light was dim in the bedroom. She had no sense of what time it was. Rol ing to her side, she peered at the bedside table clock.

Shit! She leaped out of bed and looked frantical y for the hotel robe she’d been using. It lay over a chair in the corner, and she ran to grab it and shove her arms into the sleeves. She’d never make it to O’Hare in time for her flight, so she’d have to rebook.

Fortunately, her first event in Denver wasn’t until Monday morning, but stil . She should have set her alarm on her phone or asked for a wake-up cal . This was embarrassing and unprofessional.

Before she dealt with it, though, she could use some coffee. On her way out to the living room to find it, she realized that Aidan hadn’t bothered to wake her up, either.