Honor Bound (3 page)

"Thank you,
Orion." Her shoulder brushed his chest as she walked past him.
The scent of her hair filled his nose, sweat and citrus and
woman
.
He fought back a groan and let the door swing shut, leaving him in
the quiet, still night to gather the ragged remains of his
self-control.

It wasn't until he'd
gathered the firewood and was shouldering through the doorway that he
remembered one essential detail that had eluded him when she'd spoken
of taking a bath. He couldn't blame himself for the mistake,
considering how rarely he made use of the giant, claw-footed tub, but
it was a mistake indeed. A big one.

His bathroom had no
door, and the tub was clearly visible from where he stood. And what
he saw made his momentary fantasy by the fire pit pale in comparison.

She stood in the tub
with water slicking her smooth, tanned skin and trickling from her
wet hair. A shiver took her, and the dark peaks of her breasts
tightened in the chill air. She turned away to reach for a towel, and
Orion caught sight of a scar, faded by time, running down her side.
Then he forgot everything else as his eyes traced the swell of her
hips and ass.

He tore his gaze away
and strode to the fireplace, dumping the armful of logs onto the top
of the stack without care for where or how they fell. One rolled off
and hit the floor with a dull
thud
,
but he ignored it in favor of fighting the hot need that pulsed
through his body and hardened his cock.

Even with his back to
her, he marked her progress—the sound of the water draining
from the tub and the soft rasp of terrycloth against skin. "I'm
sorry." She spoke close behind him. "I'm used to communal
bathing. I didn't think."

There hadn't been time
to pull on a new shirt before the Elders gathered, and he swore he
could
feel
her breath against his back. "It's not a problem," he
replied, his hoarse voice giving lie to his words. He'd denied
himself for far too long, uninterested in the ambitious women of the
pack, the ones who only sought to bed him in hopes of convincing him
to challenge Cavil and make them the Alpha's lover. Now his body
rebelled, clamoring for him to turn and fist his hand in her hair, to
wrench her head back and demand her body's submission, her body's
pleasure
...

He turned without
meaning to, his hands clenched into fists at his side to keep them
from touching her. "This is not going to work."

She stood there, her
hand folded around the top of the towel, holding it together over her
firm breasts. "I'll get dressed and go." But she didn't
move.

Heightened senses made
it impossible to ignore how hot she was for him. He wanted to edge
his hand under her towel, to slip his fingers between her thighs and
feel the proof of her arousal. He just
wanted
.

So he took a step
closer, crowding into her personal space. "Have you ever fucked
a werewolf, Amaia?"

"No." Her
brows drew together as she lifted her free hand to his chest. Her
fingers trembled a little against his skin.

Orion slipped his hand
under her hair and wrapped the long, damp strands around his fingers.
"And what have you heard? What stories do demons tell about our
uncivilized, animalistic rutting?"

"That you have no
self-control," she whispered, pressing her palm over his heart.
"You're rough, violent. Unconcerned with anything but sating
your own lust."

He couldn't help but
laugh. "Our women would make us regret that." He tightened
his fingers a little, pulling her head back, and lifted his other
hand to grasp the edge of her towel. "Maybe some of us like it a
little rough, a little intense...but a man who doesn't satisfy his
lover would find himself without one rather quickly. Even the weakest
of us has the right to deny a man their bed."

Her eyes darkened until
they were almost black. "Do I have the same right?"

"Of course."
He curled his fingers around the towel, but didn't pull it away. "You
have the right to deny yourself my bed, if that's what you really
want."
Even
though I know it isn't...

The darkness cleared,
and Amaia made a soft noise of longing. Her heart pounded, and her
fingers curled until her nails bit into his skin. "How do you do
this? You make me
want
—"
She bit off her words and shrugged out of the towel, letting him drag
it from her body and throw it to the floor.

He wasted no time
pulling her against him, pressing the lush curves of her body against
his. Her breasts rubbed his chest and he lifted a hand to cup one,
molding his fingers to the firm curve. "You are so damn
gorgeous. I know better than to want you, and yet..." There was
no need to finish, not with the hard ridge of his cock grinding
against her stomach through his pants.

She hissed in a breath,
and her teeth scored her lip. "Kiss me." Her hands fell to
his belt buckle, and she opened it easily, brushing the hard flesh
beneath. He choked on a groan and took her mouth.

Kissing her was like
something out of a dream, the kind he woke from thrusting into his
own hand and chasing release. He dragged his tongue along her full
lower lip, savoring her taste as he coaxed a soft noise from her.

Amaia explored his
mouth with lazy patience even though she shook with the same desire
that burned in him. When her soft noises turned into hitching moans,
she slipped her fingers under the waistband of his jeans and tugged
him across the room.

He stopped a foot from
the bed and dropped his mouth to her chin. Her pulse beat so fast in
her throat, calling to the instinctive need to close his teeth on her
neck, to show strength and dominance. To mark her. He shifted at the
last moment and nipped at her shoulder instead, reminding himself
that Amaia wasn't a lover or a mate. She wasn't
his
to claim.

Not even if I want
to.

The thought was so
shocking he groaned and pushed her back onto the bed. He pulled in
panting breaths of air as his gaze swept down her body. "What do
you want, Amaia?"

She came to her knees
in a lithe roll, already reaching for him again. "I want to feel
you." Her eyes were glazed, unfocused, and she slid her hands
around his waist and scattered open-mouthed kisses over his chest.

His stepped back to
drag off his heavy boots, his eyes never leaving hers as he tossed
them by the end of the bed. When he returned he caught her hands and
guided them to his jeans. "Take my pants off."

It took Amaia a moment
to unbutton them, but her fingers were steady as she dragged the tab
of his zipper down. She edged her hands under the denim and his
underwear and carefully eased them both down. Her breathing roughened
as she closed a hand around his shaft and squeezed.

A growl rumbled up out
of his chest and he reached down to catch her wrist. "Wait."

Amaia stilled, her gaze
locked with his. "What is it?"

He smiled and urged her
back onto the bed before sinking down next to her. "I want to
touch you."

Her hair spread out
around her in a dark cloud, and she twisted on the quilt. When he
laid his hand on her belly, she moaned in relief. "Have you ever
fucked a demon, Orion?" she asked, echoing his earlier words
with a half-smile.

It made him laugh. He
smoothed his hand up to cup her breast again, plying the tight nipple
with his thumb. "No. I've heard it can go badly."

She gasped, a harsh,
shocked sound, then slid her hand over his. "I won't hurt you. I
swear it."

He had to taste her. He
bent his head and rasped his tongue around the dusky tip, growling
his pleasure when she arched up against his mouth. She filled his
senses, from the clean taste of her damp skin and the smell of her
arousal to the sound of her heart, even the silky feeling of her hair
wrapped around his fingers.

"Orion." The
husky whisper stoked the fire inside him even as her strong,
wandering hands gentled him. She twined her legs with his, soft skin
sliding over his, and pulled him closer.

"What do you
like?" He spoke the words against her breast as he rubbed his
fingers over the wicked swell of her hip and lower, dipping between
her thighs. "Slow and easy? Or do you want a taste of the wild?"

She bucked under his
hand with a small cry. "Both." Her nails bit into his
flesh. "I want both."

The temptation to pull
her to her knees and thrust into her stole his breath. He could
picture it already, her lithe back arching in front of him as he took
her slowly, made her beg.

Soon,
he promised himself, settling instead for shifting his fingers in
search of that special spot, the small bundle of nerves that would
bring her hips off the bed. He'd prove the wolves knew more than
carnal, primal rutting.

And then he'd take her.
Hard.

Another bolt of heat
shot through Amaia, and she shuddered. Orion's clever fingers stroked
her, coaxing her higher, and she writhed under his touch.

The men of her clan
were renowned for their attractiveness, their skill. But she'd never
felt anything like the searing pleasure that shook her when Orion
growled against her skin and deepened his caresses. She curled into
him and closed her teeth on his neck in a silent plea.

He groaned and curled
his fingers tighter in her hair, pulling her head back. A moment
later she felt
his
teeth on
her
neck, hard and bruising.

She bit her lip until
she tasted blood, but a shriek escaped her anyway. Everything inside
her had wound into a knot, tight and burning. "Please. Please—"
The knot exploded without warning, sweeping her away in a cascade of
pleasure that curled her toes and brought tears to her eyes.

His mouth fell to her
ear, air tickling her skin as he panted harshly. "I'm going to
take you, Amaia. Hard, if you want it. Tell me you want it."

"Yes," she
hissed. "I want it. I want you." Frustration clawed at her
even through the aftershocks of her orgasm. She felt that, no matter
how hard she tried, she could never get close enough to him. "Take
me."

One large hand smoothed
along her stomach to cup her hip. "Roll over."

She obeyed, whimpering
when he coaxed her up onto her knees. She clenched the quilt in her
hands and tossed back her head, eager to feel him behind her. The
leisurely, almost detached pleasure she'd known in the past was a
hazy memory, blotted out by the strength of his hand on her hip.

Warm lips skimmed her
shoulder as his fingers tightened. "Tell me how much you want
me."

The truth was stark,
terrifying, and she turned her head to whisper it against her arm.
"I've never wanted anyone like this."

"Good." And
with that he thrust into her, one long, smooth stroke that drew a
hoarse, needy cry from her throat.

She bowed her back and
pressed her face against the quilt for a moment. Then the insatiable
need he'd ignited drove her up on her hands and back against him.
"Yes."

His hand hit the bed
next to hers, the muscles in his arm straining as he curled the other
hand in her hair. She felt his chest against her back and his breath
hot on her neck as he pulled her head back. "Is this what you
imagined? Uncivilized domineering sex?"

She hadn't imagined it
at all, and his stillness scraped her nerves. She turned her face to
his, too lost in anticipation of the maelstrom to come to censor her
words. "I need you."

Orion laughed, a deep,
arrogant sound that she felt through the vibrations of his chest. His
mouth shifted, found her ear and closed around the sensitive lobe. He
nipped at her, his breath tickling her skin. "Werewolves don't
need magic to make our lovers beg," he whispered as he rocked
his hips once in a teasing prelude. "Beg for me, Amaia."

She wanted to, just so
he'd ease the ache inside her. But what he wanted would lay her bare,
leave her at his mercy. "I don't think so."