S. Yule - Lycan Vengeance

He groaned, dipped his fingers lower, and slipped them between her legs from the back. She moaned when he caressed her clit, and nearly came when he flicked her gently. He growled and trailed his hand around to her mound and slid his middle finger through her wetness while his thumb put pressure on her core. She cried out, and he pushed into her. Her hips thrust up, taking him deeper.

She broke the kiss and buried her face against his shoulder while he stroked her, his breathing nearly as ragged as her own.

Within moments the pressure built to a point where she thought she would fly apart into a mil ion pieces, and just as she was on the brink of doing just that, he removed his finger, and she cried out at the sudden emptiness she felt. He gently pushed her back until she fell onto the bed, her legs dangling to the floor.

He fel to his knees and, before she could protest, spread her legs wide, insinuated his shoulders between her knees, and stroked her clit with his tongue. She bucked violently, and he reached up and anchored her to the bed by her hips. She cried out, but he held her still while he nipped, licked, and sucked at her. The pressure began building once again, and her skin burned, almost hurt from the overload of sensations rushing through her.

She clutched at the sheets with her hands while he ate at her, and within moments, the pressure exploded outward, and then she shattered. Tears fell down her cheeks as she came, and came, and he continued to pleasure her relentlessly, until another orgasm ripped through her on the heels of the first. She cried out at the intensity, and his nips and licks changed to a leisurely soothing.

He breathed deep, as if taking her essence into his lungs so he could carry her with him wherever he went, and kissed his way up to her mouth, where he took her lips once again. When he finally let her go, she was having trouble catching her breath, and even though she’d had two orgasms, she ached for his possession.

“I’m coming for you.” He stepped back and was gone before she could blink again.

She’d already come for him. Her body wept for him, and her heart pleaded for him to return, but he was gone. She’d never see him again. The only reason he’d said he was coming for her was because her mind had conjured those words up to make never seeing him again a little less painful.

Her eyelids flew open, her heart pounded, she vaulted upright in the dark bedroom, and she laid her palm over her chest, hoping to calm the erratic beating. The dream of Knox had seemed so real. In fact, she swore she could taste him on her lips. She reached up and touched her mouth, then frowned. The ache between her thighs was real, and she was wet and ready for him. Damn, girl. You better get a hold of yourself.

She’d let him crawl under her skin, and now it itched for his touch. How was she ever going to get him out of her thoughts, her dreams? He’d given her such profound pleasure—not once, but twice—and he was miles away. How was she ever going to shake the spell he’d cast over her?

She put the dream out of her mind and snuggled back under the covers. She needed some sleep, and nothing was going to keep her from it, not even a sexy, midnight blue-eyed, gorgeous man—unless he made another appearance in the fantasy world created by her brain. She was sure she’d stay up all night for a repeat performance of her first dream.

* * *

He might feel a bit guilty about tricking her if she hadn’t done the same to him. Wouldn’t she be surprised when she found out that mates could visit each other in their dreams? It had taken every ounce of willpower

Knox possessed to keep from tanning her hide in that dream for running off, but he’d gotten what he’d gone after—almost everything.

He growled low in his throat. His cock still throbbed and screamed at him that he was a fool for not taking her. He’d wanted to more than anything, but when he finally possessed her, he needed it to be real, in the flesh, so she’d have no excuses afterward. He wanted her to be aware on every level what was happening between them, and who was possessing her. He grazed his fingers over the erection straining against his jeans and cringed.

She’d tasted like heaven, and had blossomed under his touch, burned for him, and in turn set him on fire.

The craving that was rooted inside him only intensified with each passing day. The man in him was nearly as crazy with wanting his mate as the wolf. When they came together, the results would be off the charts, an eleven-magnitude earthquake. She’d wanted him just as badly in the dream, and he had no doubt she’d been more than willing to welcome him into her body. But it was because she’d thought it was only a dream.

When he’d asked her to walk with him, he’d had an ulterior motive. From outside, he was able to see her street name and house address. He’d fully intended to tell her about the connection mates had during dreams, but the situation hadn’t allowed it. At this point in time, he was happy he hadn’t divulged that information, or she’d have had her guard up when he came to her. However, the thing he regretted most was not telling her about iron being a lycan’s true weakness. If he’d told her that, she’d be better able to protect herself while on her own.

He’d only meant to get her location and leave in the dream, but he’d been no more able to deny the need to kiss her than the need to breathe. She’d looked so damned sexy in that blue nightie, a perfect match to the shade of her eyes. He’d wanted to rip it from her body and take her like the predator in him demanded, like the man in him craved, but he’d never betray her in such a manner, no matter how hard the urge to possess her rode him.

When he made love to her—and it would be soon—he wanted her awake, aware, and willing. He wanted to brand himself on her so she’d never be able to forget who the only man was who could make her shatter into a million pieces—never be able to forget who she belonged to. Likewise, she’d finally realize that he belonged to her.

He wanted to hear his name on her sweet lips as she came apart under him, as he slid deep into her welcoming heat. The predator in him desired submission, but the man relished the fact that his Rose would never play the coy mouse. She would give him all that he asked, but would demand the same in return, and he would gladly and willingly give her anything she wanted.

He strode out the front door of his house with a bag containing some of his belongings slung over his shoulder. He locked up and made his way to the small garage behind the house that was barely big enough for his SUV. The four-by-four Suburban was fitted with oversize tires, winch, and spotlights. It would take an avalanche to trap him anywhere, and it would have to be a big one at that. He needed a vehicle he could count on in the brutal Michigan weather, and although the thing sucked gas like no tomorrow, it had served him well.

He tossed the bag in the back, slid in behind the wheel, started the dark green monster, and let it warm up for a few minutes before starting down the drive, counting the hours until he’d see Rose again—they’d be the last he spent without her. He’d let his guard down, and she’d adequately pulled the wool over his eyes. He’d be more careful in the future and make sure not to repeat that mistake.

Yeah, but what if she decides she doesn’t want you, you smug son of a bitch? He couldn’t bear that thought.

He’d make her see that they belonged together, that their souls were two halves of a whole. And if worse came to worst, and she still refused to be with him, he’d let her go—to some extent.

If she did choose to live without him, he’d respect her wishes no matter how much it killed him to do so, but he’d remain in the background, watching, guarding, never letting any harm come to her, and God help any poor sap who thought to touch her. He might be able to suffer living without her, but he’d never be able to stand idly by and allow her to be with another. Neither the man nor the wolf would share his mate.

He took a deep breath and let out a long, slow sigh. He was getting worked up over things that might never happen. He had faith that fate wouldn’t pair him with someone who could not abide him. If he had to, he’d spend the rest of his days convincing Rose that they belonged together. He turned the radio on, hit the button to switch it to CD, and cranked up “Back in Black” by AC/DC. He smiled and stepped on the gas. He was going to get his Rose back, thorns and all.

Rose sat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and pushed the eggs around on the paper plate. She hadn’t eaten off of real plates at her own place for years, not wanting any needless possessions to pack up or get rid of when she moved from one house to another. Lately, she’d grown weary of the way she was living, yearned for some permanence. Was it too much to ask to have real dishes and silverware? The strong black coffee was doing little to wake her up this morning after a restless night, and her mood wasn’t helped by the

“poor, poor pitiful me” routine.

She sighed and thought about the dreams she’d had last night of Knox—all with the same outcome, both of them sweaty and naked. She had to get him out of her mind somehow. He’s gone, Rose. Get a hold of yourself.

But she didn’t want to get a hold of herself. She found, odd as it was, she missed him. She wished she’d given in to the urge to make love to him before she’d left.

He would have been amazing to have sex with, and her body still ached for him. No. She had done the right thing. If she had slept with him, she wouldn’t have been able to walk away from him so easily—or maybe not at all. From now on she’d never see another romantic movie or read another romance book that didn’t make her imagine he and she in place of the main characters. Why couldn’t they just be two normal people who’d randomly met? Why did he have to be a lycan?

Everything revolved around that one thing—him being a lycan. Why couldn’t she get past that?

Hadn’t he proven to her that not all lycans were the horrible monsters she’d thought them to be? He protected her, had been gentle with her even when she hadn’t deserved it—like after she’d shot him—and his kisses and touch made her burn. Each time he’d set those smoldering pools of glowing midnight blue upon her, she’d melt a little. She’d never met a man who could say so much with his eyes.

When he watched her, he never bothered to hide the desire that sizzled in his gaze. His eyes said, I want to possess you. I want to eat you up and make you scream in ecstasy, as clearly as his lips ever could. And his body. Oh, she’d never seen a body as delectable as his. She would like nothing better than to use him as her own personal lollipop. She groaned, got up, and took her plate to the trash, where she dumped it and the remaining contents.

She was fighting a losing battle. She’d allowed him to infect her with his eyes, magical touch, delectable lips, and dominant nature. There was no vaccination, no cure for Knox Slade, and she couldn’t deny any longer that she wanted him, that she’d probably always want him. She sighed, walked to the window, and pulled the curtain aside. If she hadn’t looked at the clock moments before, she’d swear the darkening sky was welcoming evening instead of noon. There was a storm coming in, and the thick gray clouds made the day dreary, gloomy, and dark. It reflected perfectly how she felt—heavy, dismal, and volatile.

She let the curtain fall back into place and went to her room to get dressed. She let her robe fall to the floor and put on a pair of black leather pants, black T-shirt, and black leather vest. She then put on heavy socks and black boots and headed for the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled her hair back, twisted it, and secured it on top of her head with a clip.

She needed to find out more about the place Knox called Sanctuary. She wanted to believe a place like that really existed, but needed to see it for herself. And if it was real, she wanted to be a part of it. It would be a way that she could continue to help with the lycan problem, but also a way that she could stop getting her hands bloody. She needed a change, and as loath as she was to admit it, she needed to be around other people, other people who knew what she knew. She’d been alone for a long time, and she didn’t want to be so anymore. But what if the place does exist, and they don’t want you around? She ignored the question her mind whispered.