Unleash the Night (Dark-Hunter #9)(11)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

There was quite a stir in the hallway as women gawked or tried to be inconspicuous in their ogling of him. At first all she could see was the top of his blond hair over the crowd.

It was hard to navigate through the estrogen sea of women who wanted a closer look at him. And as she made her way closer, Marguerite had to admit he was completely stunning. She was far from immune to the " ‘do me’ factor" that Tammy had mentioned.

His face was perfect, with full, sensual lips that just begged for a hot kiss. He had high cheekbones and a patrician nose. His dark blond hair was shorter in back than in front, with pieces of it falling strategically into his eyes to add an air of mystery to him. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he held a bouquet of roses and a large box of Godiva chocolates. His skin was a deep, tawny gold.

It wasn’t until he took a step toward her and she saw the exact color of his turquoise eyes that recognition hit her square in the chest.

It couldn’t be…

"Wren?"

He didn’t pause until he stood before her and offered her that familiar hesitant smile before he literally nuzzled her cheek, then gave her a light, gentle kiss.

Tammy paused beside them and cleared her throat. "Switch-hitter?" she asked.

Marguerite laughed. "Oh no. This one is definitely on our team, trust me."

Tammy high-fived her. "You go, girl. Make sure you score a few home runs for our side."

Wren frowned as Tammy headed off. "Should I ask about that?"

Marguerite laughed nervously. "No. I would definitely prefer that you didn’t."

His scowl only increased as he handed her the flowers and candy. "I got these for you."

It was so strangely corny and cliched, and yet it made her heart pound that he had done it. No man had ever given her flowers and candy before. "Thank you."

Biting her lip, she reached up and brushed at his new hair, which was incredibly silky between her fingers. The soft texture reminded her more of an animal pelt than human hair.

It looked really good on him, but part of her missed the old Wren. "What did you do?"

Uncertainty darkened his eyes. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I think I do." She’d known he was cute, but she’d had no idea he was so incredibly sexy. There was something about this new Wren look that made her even hotter than the old one. Who knew a haircut could make such a difference?

"You didn’t do this for me, did you?"

He looked away sheepishly.

Warmth flooded her. "You didn’t have to cut your hair, Wren. I liked it the other way, too."

He glanced around at the women who were slowly dispersing. "I didn’t want to embarrass you anymore."

She reached up and pulled his face down so that she could press her cheek to his. The masculine scent of his skin and aftershave set fire to her hormones. But it was his sacrifice that set fire to her heart.

"You’ve never embarrassed me, Wren," she whispered in his ear. "I don’t think you ever could."

Wren couldn’t breathe as the scent of her washed over him. It was all he could do to control himself. The feeling of her skin on his… of her hand on his cheek… It was wonderful. Her touch scalded him and it touched the tiny part of him that was human. More than that, it touched his animal heart and tamed it. He never thought he’d feel anything like this.

He was at peace. Calm. Soothed. There was no pain. No past. No taunts echoing in his head.

All there was inside him was Maggie and a foreign, giddy joy the likes of which he’d never known.

It was a feeling he didn’t want to end.

To his instant dismay, she pulled back to look up at him. "So how did you know to find me here? Are you like some freaky stalker?"

Wren grinned at that. Honestly, the animal in him could track her with ease anywhere on this planet. She had a unique scent of woman and tea rose laced with the Finesse shampoo that she used. But it would probably scare her to know that she could never hide from him.

"Your schedule was in your backpack. I looked at it before I returned it to you yesterday."

She offered him a shy smile that made him harden before she bent her head down to smell the roses he’d brought for her. He reached out to touch her.

"Who’s your friend, Margeaux?"

Wren withdrew his hand instantly as he recognized one of the women who had gone to the bar with Maggie on the night they’d met.

Marguerite turned to see Whitney behind her, eyeing Wren speculatively. "Whitney, meet Wren."

Whitney looked confused by that. "Wren? The grubby busboy who had Blaine arrested?"

Marguerite was quick to defend Wren. "Blaine started the fight."

She doubted Whitney heard her, since she was eyeing Wren like a hungry tigress who had spotted a pork chop on a plate. The only problem was that the pork chop belonged to Marguerite, who had no intention of sharing him with anyone.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and pulled him away. "Wren and I have a date. We’ll see you later."

Wren leaned down and did that warm, wonderful action of gently nuzzling her cheek before he covered her hand with his and led her toward the exit.

Wren still didn’t really understand why he’d sought out Maggie. Humans had never held any real interest for him in the past As a Katagari male, he shouldn’t be so attracted to her. At least not anything more than physically.

And yet she fascinated him as she drove him to her small cottage by the zoo. All he wanted was to curl up in her lap and purr. Something that didn’t make sense, since what he normally wanted was to rip the arm off anyone dumb enough to come near him.

She kept glancing over at him and gifting him with the sweetest little shy smile that he’d ever seen on a woman’s face. But even worse on his self-restraint was the desire he felt from her. She was as hungry for him as he was for her, and it was making him feral.

The cat in him wanted to snarl and to stalk.

More than that, it wanted to mate.

By the time she pulled into her driveway, his entire body was throbbing. Alert.

And it wanted her with a ferocity that scared the shit out of him. There was no way he could leave her until he had tasted her.

Marguerite opened her car door and got out. Wren was there on her side of the car before she’d even had a chance to pull her book bag out.

"I’ll carry it," he said quietly.

He’d moved so fast that it was practically inhuman…

Nodding, she reached in to get her flowers and chocolate to carry them into her house. Wren followed her to the stoop, then stood back while she unlocked her door and let them in.

She went to set the flowers down on her end table. Before she could even straighten up, he was behind her. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled deeply as if he were savoring her. She’d never felt anything like it. She could feel his entire length against her back. Marguerite actually shivered at the sensualness of that action.

She found herself leaning back against him as his arms came around her to hold her close. In this position, she could feel his erection plainly against her hip. Wren was a large man, powerful.

"You smell good enough to eat," he whispered against her ear.

Marguerite couldn’t answer, as her entire body burned from his presence. She laid her hands against his forearms and traced the jungle scene tattoo of a white tiger lurking in tall grass that ran the length of Wren’s left one. There was so much strength and power in his arms that it made her feel weak. Trembling. She’d never known any man to make her feel like this.

He turned her in his arms so that she was facing him. His pale turquoise eyes were hot and electrifying. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.

Marguerite held him to her as every hormone in her body sizzled. Never in her life had she been more aroused. More aware of any man. His tongue spiked against hers as he pressed her even closer to his lean, hard body. Her hardened ni**les brushed against his chest, making her moan from the contact and from the insatiable desire to touch him without their clothes separating them.

She’d never been the kind of woman to hop into bed with a guy she’d just met. In fact, she’d only known two other lovers in her life. One had been a friend her first year of college and the other had been a guy she’d dated for a little over a year. Those times had been pleasant enough but never stellar.

The men hadn’t made her feel like this… made her feel like she would die if she didn’t touch them. Made her burn in pleasure of the thought of having them inside her.

But Wren did.

Her br**sts were heavy and aching. Her breath ragged as it mingled with his while they kissed.

He lifted the hem of her skirt up slowly, so slowly that the expectation was almost painful. She groaned at the feel of his callused hands on her bare skin. At the sensation of the heat of his skin mixed with the cool air as he caressed her with firm, confident hands. It was the most erotic moment of her life. She was already wet and throbbing, needing to feel even more of him. It was all she could do not to beg him to have mercy on her.

Wren explored her mouth, wanting to taste more of her. He’d never felt hunger like this. Needful. Throbbing. Demanding. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her as he lifted her skirt even more so that he could feel the softness of her thighs. She was a warm, perfect heaven.

He’d never touched a woman before, at least not like this, and he was beginning to understand why as the animal inside him roared with ferocity. It was a dangerous beast that wanted to devour her. It roared and clawed, wanting freedom.

Wanting her.

Raw possessiveness swelled up inside him with a stunning ferocity. He finally understood why animals killed those who came near their territory. If anyone else ever touched her…

Wren would rip them to shreds.

He left her lips and buried his mouth against her throat where he felt her heartbeat pounding. Licking and teasing her soft skin, he slowly slid his hand down underneath the waistband of her dark blue panties. He half-expected her to stop him, but she didn’t. Instead, she parted her legs more, giving him access to the part of her that he craved as she held on to his shoulders.

Oh yeah, this was what he needed. He felt her shiver as he stroked her with a tenderness he’d never known he possessed. If anyone had ever told him that he could hold a woman and not hurt her, he would have laughed at them, and yet he was gently holding Maggie.

No, he was making love to her. It was a human term that he’d never understood until this moment. But even more surprising was the fact that he was enjoying it so much.

Her short, crisp hairs brushed his fingers as he sank his hand down farther, seeking her. He separated the tender folds of her body until he could touch the part of her that he needed most. He closed his eyes and trembled as he sank one long finger deep inside her.

She jumped and moaned against his lips.

Wren growled in triumph as he stroked her. She was so wet. So soft. Her murmurs filled his ears, making him even harder for her.

Marguerite couldn’t think as he tormented her with his touch. And when he sank another long, tanned finger deep inside her, she feared her knees would buckle.

"I have to have you, Maggie," he whispered gruffly in her ear.

She answered him by unbuttoning his shirt so that she could feel all that lush, beautiful skin. She hesitated as she saw the bandage still on his shoulder from where he’d protected her. A foreign tenderness went through her an instant before she claimed his lips again.

Marguerite stripped his clothes from him feverishly, wanting to see all of him. Wanting to feel him deep inside her. She’d never wanted anything more desperately.

She had to have him. It was like a madness that she’d never felt before.

They didn’t even make it to her bedroom. Instead, they sank to the floor where they were.

Marguerite hissed as Wren unbuttoned her shirt, then nuzzled her small breast with his entire face. Always self-conscious in the past about her cup size, she felt none of that now. How could she when he seemed to savor her body so much? He rubbed himself against her breast from chin to brow several times before he gave her one long, wicked lick to her swollen nipple.

She shivered. "What are you doing?"

He hovered just over her other breast as he blew one teasing, hot breath over the taut peak. His blue eyes bored into hers. "I want your scent all over me. I want to smell your skin until I’m drunk with it."

She moaned as he repeated those actions on her right breast while her body throbbed with needful hunger. How strange to be so at ease with her body… with his touch. She wasn’t nervous or hesitant in the least. All she wanted was Wren.

His tongue was rough against her skin, and every lick made her stomach flutter in response. He removed her blouse and skirt entirely. And when he pulled her panties off with his teeth, she almost came from the sheer pleasure of it.

He took his time with her. Slowly, methodically, he nibbled every inch of her skin from her foot to her thigh. It was as if he’d never tasted a woman before. As if he wanted to claim every little molecule of her body.

And he was doing a damned good job of it. That man could lick like nobody’s business.

Wren paused to look at her. He nudged her thighs farther apart so that he could brush his fingers over her wet cleft and stare in wonderment of her body. It was so very different from his own. Soft and inviting.