Cat Scratch Fever (8 page)

“D-Dante, I’m going to—” A strained cry ripped from her as the lush, powerful orgasm slammed into her with blinding impact. She shuddered, cradling his head in her hands as she held on for dear life.

Eventually the quakes faded to a wonderful glow that left her limp and sated. Her murmur contented, she let go of Dante. His silky hair sifting free of her fingers, he gave a final lingering suckle on her clit and lifted his head. Licking his lips, he leaned upward to kiss her. She caressed his jaw, her fingers becoming damp with her own wetness. She lowered her hand to brush it on the quilt, but Dante gripped her fingers and sucked them into his mouth. Despite the magnificent orgasm he’d just given her, a renewed tickle of need fluttered low in her belly.

He reluctantly let go of her fingers. “I could become addicted to your taste.”

She offered him a cheeky grin. “Feel free to slake your thirst whenever you’d like.”

He chuckled. “You might regret making that offer. Especially when I tie you to my bed and gorge on you for hours on end.”

“That’s okay. As long as you let me do the same to you.” She smiled when the heat in his eyes intensified. “Hmm, I do believe you like the idea of me sucking your cock all night long.” She tiptoed her nails down his sculpted chest and followed the happy trail leading toward the waistband of his jeans. With one finger, she traced the rigid length of his erection through the denim before cupping him fully. He thickened within her grasp. She angled her head and scraped her teeth on the underside of his bristly jaw. He groaned, a shiver running through him.

Excitement and heady desire heating her in decadent waves, she unbuttoned his jeans and freed his cock for her fingers to explore. The rigid veining of his shaft fascinated her, as did the way his testicles tightened when she massaged them lightly. Returning her focus to the satiny, plum-shaped cap, she encountered a weeping teardrop of his precome. Lifting her finger to her mouth, she sucked his essence from her skin with a soft moan.

“
Jesus
.” A ragged exhale escaped Dante before he pulled her into his arms for a deep, drugging kiss that melted her bones. Their tongues tangled, intermingling both of their tastes. He broke the kiss and stared at her. “I need to be inside you.
Now
.”

Whimpering in agreement, she yanked his jeans past his hips. He scooted out from between her legs so he could kick his boots and pants completely off. “I hope to fucking God you have some condoms stashed somewhere, because I sure as shit don’t.”

Being shifters, they didn’t have to worry about human STDs, so condoms were strictly to prevent pregnancy amongst their kinds. But an unpleasant allergy to latex made condoms out of the question for her. “I can do even better than that. I have an IUD.”

The expression that crossed Dante’s face reminded her of a kid who’d woken up Christmas morning to a pony in the backyard. He settled over her again and slid hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck. The delicious, heavy weight of his shaft nudged at the slick entrance of her pussy with its own brand of kiss. She wiggled beneath him, forcing his thick cockhead inside her a fraction. A tremor ran through Dante, and he rolled his hips, thrusting deeper. His penetration was a slow, luscious glide that allowed her to feel every hard centimeter of him. The diving of his cock didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt within her. He hesitated, his cockhead butting her cervix and his smoldering gaze locked with hers, before he retreated completely and started his lazy plunge all over again. And again.

She tilted her hips, trying to speed him up, but he only lifted farther out of reach by balancing on his outstretched arms. Not about to be thwarted, she hooked her good leg behind his ass and ground against him. A bead of sweat slid down his sternum and lines of strain furrowed his forehead. “Babe, what part of
I get to be on top
do you not understand?”

“But—” She broke off with an indignant gasp when Dante pulled out of her and rolled her onto her stomach. His hand settled firmly on her tailbone when she attempted to flip back over. The light dusting of hair on his thighs grazed her skin as he settled between her legs again. She snorted. “Doggie style? I should have known.”

He chuckled. “Don’t even pretend you’re not gonna love this.” With that boast hanging in the air, he lifted her hips and thrust inside her. Somehow, the new position allowed him even deeper access, which he took full advantage of as he bottomed out inside her pussy. He pumped his cock in an unhurried, steady rhythm, the whole time keeping full command of their lovemaking and her pleasure.

She had no option but to take it. And sweet mother of whiskers, did she freaking love it. Before Dante, she’d never experienced sex with a shifter who was the sheer epitome of dominant alpha. Amongst the lynchats, it was usually the females who held that title. Not that the males were pussy-whipped—no pun intended—but there was no denying that nine times out of ten, the women were the natural-born leaders and the most likely to take charge in the bedroom. She’d always assumed she preferred it that way, but she’d be a damn liar if she said she didn’t want to thoroughly submit to Dante’s mastery at the moment. Fortunately there would be plenty of time tomorrow to scold herself for usurping her feminist power. Because right now, Dante and his wonder cock were too potent to resist.

Her toes curling, she gave in to the rapturous purr tickling the back of her throat.

Dante’s rhythm faltered briefly before he thrust deeper. “Do you have any idea how much I fuckin’ loved watching you get yourself off yesterday? Later, I fantasized about doing exactly this, my cock pounding into you from behind while you played with your clit.”

“Y-you did?” Almost unconscious of what she was doing, she slipped a hand between her legs and coasted a finger over the slick bundle of nerves.

A growl issued from Dante. “Yeah, like that, baby. Stroke that pretty little clit for me.” His fingers clenching around her hips, he pulled her into his fierce thrusts. Between his pistoning cock and her rubbing motions, it took little time for the next climax to barrel down on her—this one even more powerful than the last. It tore through her, shattering her into a million brilliant fragments. Her incoherent cries rang in her own ears as her body trembled and convulsed. Her channel pulsed and spasmed around Dante, clamping down on his cock in a sucking embrace. With one last smooth thrust, he surged deep inside her and came with a long, shuddering groan.

Their limbs entangled, they collapsed into the bedding. It took several moments to chase down her breath. Once she did, she rolled onto her other side to face Dante and grinned. “Okay, I might not mind being on the bottom once in a while. But just you wait until
I’m
on top.”

A laughing groan rumbled through his chest. “Why do I get the feeling it’s gonna damn well kill me?”

Chapter Seven

Lilly gave an indulgent stretch as she swung her legs over the mattress. Eighteen hours had passed since Dante left her bed, and she was
still
sore—in all the right places. If there was one thing she’d learned from their sexy afternoon together, it was that werewolves possessed insane stamina. Honestly, it was no wonder so many damn Morgans populated this neck of the woods. Werewolves were bigger boinking machines than rabbits.

Not that she was complaining…mostly.

She gingerly tested the status of her injured ankle by resting most of her weight on that foot. Not even the tiniest twinge of pain. Pumping her fist in victory, she hurried to the bathroom and cranked on the shower to a hot enough setting to chase away the morning chill from her achy muscles. After stripping from her pajamas, she jumped beneath the spray and soaped up her washcloth. Despite her best efforts to ignore the pleasurable tingles shooting across her skin, the silky glide of the cloth brought her memories racing back to the enticing way Dante’s hands thoroughly explored every inch of her yesterday.

A hot flush of need trembled through her. The realization that Dante had the power to affect her this way was both thrilling and disturbing. The handful of lovers she’d had in the past certainly hadn’t left her this weak-kneed with desire and starving for a repeat performance between the sheets.

It must be the hormones.
Soon as her heat cycle was finished, she’d be back to her normal self, thank God. It was disconcerting being a slave to her body where Dante was concerned. Just because she’d agreed to this sham of a marriage didn’t mean she could afford to grant him control of certain things that needed to stay out of this deal—like her heart. Thankfully their past history prevented the possibility of her falling for him. Sure, the sex was mind-blowing and something she could easily become addicted to, but nothing would suck more than being in a one-sided love affair. Her own mother had suffered from that unfortunate affliction. Although Rob Prescott had loved his wife before they’d ultimately divorced each other, it wasn’t exactly a secret that he’d shared his affections with other females. Seeing the silent anguish her mother had suffered throughout the years had only solidified Lilly’s decision to steer clear of marriage.

Which really made her present predicament pretty damn ironic. But as long as she kept control of the situation and her emotions out of it, everything would be fine, and her heart would remain safe.

Tossing the cloth aside, Lilly shut off the water and snagged a towel. She dressed before the shower’s warmth could abandon her bones. Releasing her hair from the clip she’d secured it with, she headed to the kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix. That plan became derailed when she inspected the package of coffee and realized she’d accidentally bought whole bean instead of ground. Groaning, she slumped against the counter and peered through the tiny window at the snowflakes pirouetting outside.
Do I really need coffee that badly?

Her groggy brain responded with a
Hell yes
. She nibbled her thumbnail as she eyed the dense stand of pines separating the farthest corner of her property from Dante’s. No doubt he had plenty of coffee in that well-stocked kitchen of his. But if she went over there, he’d assume she was using the visit as an excuse to jump him. Which now that she thought about it, sounded pretty damn appealing.

No, she refused to allow her hormones to get the last word, damn it. Besides, becoming dependant on Dante for anything—even coffee—was the last thing she wanted to do.

Grumbling beneath her breath in an effort to drown out the persistent pleas of her inner slut, she stalked from the kitchen and swiped her coat and keys on the way to the front door. She paused long enough to struggle into her winter gear before braving the elements outside. Shivering, she cranked the Escape’s heater to full blast and left the vehicle to warm up while she returned to the cabin and applied some blush and lip-gloss—neither of which were intended to appeal to a certain werewolf on the off chance she ran into him in town. Keeping that pathetic lie firmly planted in her mind, she locked up the cabin and returned to her car. Fortunately the interior temperature no longer resembled that of an igloo.

Shifting into reverse, she backed toward the end of the drive. An ominous thumping noise sounded as her rear wheels sank into the large drift of snow blocking the road. She cautiously stepped on the gas pedal and gritted her teeth as the wheels spun. Was fate that dead set against her getting her caffeine fix this morning? Just as frustrated defeat settled in her belly, the tires finally found traction. Giving her giddy
whoop
of victory full rein, she plowed through the last of the barricade and fishtailed onto the main roadway.

She stared at the mountain of snow she’d cleared. It’d be a miracle if she tackled that monster again without getting permanently stuck until next spring’s thaw. The better option would be getting the drive plowed while she was in town. Yet another excellent excuse for her to drop by Dante’s house—which she absolutely wouldn’t do. She was a far cry from being the type of female who relied on a man to handle things she was perfectly capable of taking care of on her own—like tracking down Dante’s cousin Shane and paying him to take care of the snow. Letting Dante have his delicious way with her yesterday certainly hadn’t changed her self-reliance, and she’d make damn sure it never would.

Humming the opening bars of “I am Woman”, she stepped on the gas and headed toward town.

Dante grabbed his jacket and whistled for Chevy. The dog came galloping from the kitchen, a blur of white fur and scrabbling paws. Well acquainted with Chevy’s propensity for colliding with any solid object standing in his way, Dante yanked open the front door and stepped back as the Great Dane went streaking past. While Chevy hightailed it down the porch steps and dove into the fresh blanket of snow that’d fallen overnight so he could blissfully make dog angels, Dante shrugged into his jacket and locked up the house. He hummed to himself, feeling the best he had in months.

A good portion of the cause for that was knowing he’d found a way to beat Foster at his own game. The manipulative son of a bitch wouldn’t like having the rug pulled out from under his ambitious scheme. And that filled Dante with immeasurable triumph. But if he were to be completely honest, his good mood had an awful lot to do with the three incredible hours he’d spent in Lilly’s bed yesterday afternoon—and the prospect of whiling away another couple hours in it later this morning, after his errands were done.

To say his hunger for her hadn’t cooled would be a massive understatement. Just thinking about Lilly and how desperately he wanted to stay buried inside her all day made his cock throb and thicken.

Jesus. He’d never been this affected by a female before. The fact that it was Lilly—one of the biggest sources of his headaches all these years—only made it more surreal. And insane.

Palming his keys, he strode to his pickup and swung the door open. The rusty whine of the hinges provoked his grin as he recalled Lilly’s crack about the WD-40. Is this what getting laid reduced him to? A sappy fool who actually appreciated the little hellcat’s sarcastic barbs? He wouldn’t have believed it possible.