Lycan Contempt, S. Yule [important books to read txt] 📗

“You’re so big. I didn’t realize wolves got this huge.”

“They don’t normally. Lycans are on average quite a bit larger than your average wolf.”

“My average wolf? There is nothing average about wolves, or you for that matter.” He tensed under her fingers and she tsked. “Stop taking everything I say as an insult. Being average isn’t al it’s cracked up to be. In this case, you not being average translates to you being extraordinary. You are absolutely gorgeous,” she whispered before laying her head against his shoulder and breathing deeply.

She squeaked when suddenly the wolf was gone and hard, naked man was under her. She sprawled on top of him and the towel that was wrapped around her did little to hide the huge arousal pressing against her bely. She wiggled to get closer and he growled.

“I like it when you do that,” she whispered.

“That’s good,” he whispered back, “because I wil be doing it a lot around you.” He tightened his arms around her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Get back in the shower with me?”

She smiled. “I don’t know,” she teased him. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

He stood and picked her up. “You aren’t going to bed without me, and I need a shower first.”

He held her while he turned the water on then tugged the towel from her and stepped under the spray with her stil in his arms. She wiggled against him again.

“If you don’t stop doing that, Georgia, I’m going to have to shove you up against the wal and bury myself between your pretty thighs.”

She stopped and nearly moaned when fire shot between her legs. “What are you waiting for?”

He bent and took her mouth in a lazy, tantalizing kiss. His tongue dipped inside, tasted, then retreated several times before he broke the kiss and let her slide down his wet body.

“No. I want to make love to you properly in bed.”

He nipped her bottom lip.

The heat and pressure built between her thighs, and she was growing impatient. She wanted him, and her body wasn’t interested in anything proper at the moment. Al it and she was interested in was having Kish where she ached for him most . . . buried deep inside her.

“But—”

“Wash my back?”

He turned around before shoving a washrag in her hand. She smiled. Fine. He wanted to play games?

She could play games too.

She soaped the rag up and slid it over his left shoulder, then over his right. Slowly, she trailed the cloth over the wide span of his back. Her fingers danced over him, finding every indention that outlined each perfectly sculpted muscle. She paid particular attention to the indentation over his spine just above his butt. The man was gorgeous. She put the rag down and cupped hands ful of water from the spray then rinsed the soap from his back.

She stepped closer to him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his right shoulder. He tensed as she trailed her lips over the scars marring his otherwise flawless skin.

“Don’t.” She spoke softly against him.

He sighed, and she continued her exploration. Her fingers traced every line of every scar while her lips kissed each one in turn. If anything, the scars made him more attractive to her. He’d suffered horribly, but had survived and become a strong, admirable man.

“These”—she traced another cluster of scars low on his back—“are not ugly to me. Scars do not define who you are. And those who judge you for having them are not people worth having in your life.”

She pushed gently on his right shoulder until he turned around. She stood on tiptoe, reached up, and cupped his face. “You are one hel of a sexy man, Kish, and these”—she again traced a line of scars on his right cheek—”do not detract from that sexiness one teeny, tiny bit.”

She moaned when his arm wrapped around her lower back and his mouth slammed down on hers.

His tongue dove into her mouth, tasting her, and she curled her tongue around his while looping her arms around his neck. He was so tal she nearly dangled, but she didn’t care. She’d dangle from his neck without complaint if it meant he’d continue kissing her like this.

Butterflies danced in her bely and heat built between her thighs. She needed him, wanted him, and was going to have him. When he abruptly broke the kiss, she cried out at the loss of his mouth.

The water shut off and he scooped her up once again. “I told you, I’m going to make love to you properly in bed,” his voice rumbled.

“Then hurry up and take me to bed because I can’t wait any longer, Kish.”

He opened the door and turned left down the halway. She found it hard to care that they were both naked and wet and that Henry or Joey might possibly see them. As luck had it, they made it to Kish’s bedroom unnoticed. He closed the door behind them and took three steps before placing her on his bed.

He blanketed her with his imposing frame, but she didn’t feel trapped or uncomfortable. His weight— which he was careful to keep most of off her—was comforting.

At that moment, she felt as if nothing in the world could harm her. She placed her hand against his chest and let her fingers sift through the springy sprinkling of hair.

“I’m glad you don’t shave this,” she said as she gave a gentle tug.

“Yeah? I thought the smooth look was in right now.” He placed a lingering kiss on her colarbone.

“Maybe, but it’s not my preference. I like a man to b e natural. A smooth chest, in my opinion, is not natural for a man.”

He nibbled lower, lower until his lips found her nipple. She arched against him and tangled the fingers of her other hand in his hair, urging him closer.

“You have the most perfect breasts,” he said against her before nipping then licking her nipple.

She