Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

When? "I‘m sorry."

"I‘m not." Amusement rippled through his voice as he nuzzled the crook of her neck.

God, she felt great. All her tension had disappeared, and she‘d had a fantastic orgasm.

His black hair lay loose over his shoulders, and she ran her hands through the silky tangles and lifted her face for a kiss. He took her lips leisurely, simply pleasing himself and her until she wiggled in enjoyment. And froze. He was still fully erect inside her. He hadn‘t come? "Don‘t you want to…?"

He nuzzled her neck. "I will wait for you."

She gave him a puzzled look.

"I give it about thirty more seconds, and you‘ll demand that I move."

It took only fifteen.

First her skin grew a billion new nerves until she could feel the slightest brush of hair against her legs, feel his chest rise and fall, how warm his hands were, and the calluses on his palms. The deepness of his voice made her insides clench and when she felt his cock there, still thick and hard, a riptide of lust tried to sweep her away. She clung to sanity. "Calum."

His eyes were hot, yet sparkling with laughter. "Let go, little cat," he whispered, and then…then he started to move. Oh God, she‘d never felt anything like it before. A slow slide out and in, setting every nerve rippling awake. A pause. Such a quiet rhythm to send her senses spiraling upward.

The crease in his cheek deepened as he lifted her hips and slammed into her, hard and deep—a pounding shock that pushed her off the cliff into a mindless orgasm.

An hour later, he showered with her in the tiny bathroom, and she wasn‘t sure if she liked him or hated him. She‘d had no control whatsoever over anything he did, yet he‘d given her exactly what she wanted. Over and over. He‘d set her feet on his shoulders and thrust into her in a hard relentless rhythm that she could still feel inside. Her climax had almost killed her.

But within minutes, she‘d roused, needing more. He teased her with his fingers until she couldn‘t breathe as the orgasm shot through her. After, she‘d contentedly snuggled in his arms, and then, as if a switch had turned on, she‘d wanted him. He‘d simply smiled, rolled her over with merciless hands, and taken her from behind, straight and hard, and she‘d screamed her way through another orgasm. And yet again as he released into her, filling her with his hot seed.

After that, she‘d felt so satisfied, she figured she‘d sleep in the pile of pillows all night, but much too soon, the tingle began in her again. The need to be touched, to be filled. This time, when she‘d closed her fingers around him, Calum had stood and lifted her to her feet.

"I‘ve stayed with you longer than I should as it is, cariad," he said and pulled her into the shower.

The splash of hot water over her sensitive skin felt heavenly, and when he washed her back, her breasts...everything, her hips tilted into his hand. "More..."

But he ignored her, dried her off so gently, yet so thoroughly that she ached with need before he finished. Putting on clothes seemed the very height of insanity. "Let‘s go back to bed."

He shook his head, and she wanted to punch him. "Downstairs, little cat."

Cursing under her breath, she pulled on her clothes. He picked up her boots and socks. He took her hand and led her, barefoot, back down into the noisy tavern. Almost a quarter of the people had disappeared, she noticed. After tossing her boots behind the bar, Calum didn‘t release her, just moved her across the room to a destination obvious only to him.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, planting her feet.

He frowned. "I hoped Alec would be here, but—"

"Well, now, he had some emergency that only the sheriff could deal with." Daniel walked up, a beer in each hand. As he handed one to Calum, he tilted his head as if asking a question.

Calum‘s lips tightened but he nodded. His voice sounded hoarse as he said, "‗Tis harder than I thought it would be, but I‘m glad you‘re here, Daniel."

"Calum?" Worried, Vic ran her hand down his arm. God, he had great muscles. And his hands, the way they‘d touched her… She blinked, remembered the question, "Is something wrong?"

"I am only regretting that I must leave you now to the care of others." His eyes had gone black, never a good sign. He framed her face between his strong hands. "But I will stay over there by the bar, cariad, should any problems arise."

Giving Daniel an unreadable look, he kissed Vic quickly and walked away. She took a step after him—

"Vicki, this one‘s for you, girl." Daniel slid smoothly in front of her and pushed a beer into her hand. When she tried to look around him, he shook his head. "He can‘t stay with you, sweetie. I‘m sorry."

She sighed. "You guys have too many rules." Dammit, she felt lost without him, and she needed him and—

Daniel moved close enough she could feel the warmth of his body. She had to tilt her head to look up at him. He was a werebear, she remembered, and built like one. Big and powerful. His sleeves were rolled up showing forearms thick with muscle. "Muscles…" she whispered.

"I have a fondness for women with muscles too." He ran a finger up her bare arm over her biceps.

She shivered at the feeling.

"Don‘t you like the beer I brought you?"

"Oh—oh, yeah." She was holding a bottle, wasn‘t she? The cold malty liquid slid down her throat, and she closed her eyes at the marvelous taste of it. "That‘s wonderful," she murmured.

Opening her eyes, she met his intent gaze, his blue gaze hot as molten steel. He leaned forward and licked a few drops off her lip, the touch of his tongue velvety. His musky scent enveloped her, touched her skin as if he‘d stroked