Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night (32 page)

B
owe did the only thing he could when they began to plummet from the drop-off—wrapped his body around hers, praying he could protect her with it.

Falling . . . fear for her rioting within him as he squeezed her tight. Landing . . . in deep
water?

He blinked his eyes, wanting to roar at their fortune. No time. Rapids caught them.

As they surged forward, he shoved her above him, letting her get air, twisting to shield her from any collisions with rocks or debris.

Just as before, she'd run, but he would not let her die again. He began battling the current to get to the shore. Freed of the river, he tossed her to the bank, feeling her for injuries. He found none.

—
She's safe.
—

His female . . . unharmed. Over and over she'd been in jeopardy—his heart about to burst from his chest each time—yet somehow, in all that chaos, he'd kept her from injury.

She went to her hands and knees, but didn't get far before collapsing onto her front. He dropped behind her, fighting to catch his breath. He'd been shot more times
than he'd thought, but hadn't felt them before. Now the wounds were taking their toll.

How long they lay like this, he didn't know. Yet when the rain eased and the moon rose high, his female's scent became undeniable.

Resisting the need . . . the driving urges . . . struggling to ignore the Instinct:

—
Claim what's yours. She's strong.
—

Strong, yes, but she was also disgusted by what he was—he'd seen the undisguised revulsion in her dazed expression even before she'd risked her life fleeing him.

Again.

He closed his eyes, hating to the gods what he was—

She leapt up and darted forward, shocking him with her speed.

He labored to rise. The bullets lodged in his body stabbed like daggers. “No, doona run from me!”

Running from him . . . worst thing she could do . . . making him even wilder with her. He easily caught up to her, then tensed to spring. He lunged forward, his hand shooting out to clamp her ankle.

She screamed when he dragged her down to him.

*  *  *

In the mud, Mari crawled frantically, but he had a vise grip on her ankle.

“You canna run . . .” he grated with difficulty from behind her.

The hell she couldn't. Mari kicked back with her boot, the heel connecting squarely with the side of his face. Yet in retaliation he only growled low, smacked her on the ass, and spit out the back tooth she'd knocked loose. There was none of the fury she expected.

She slowed her struggles, so afraid to look back. . . .

When she chanced a glance, she found that the rain and the river had washed clean the blood from his mouth, his face, and his clenched hands and claws. His pale eyes met hers—the brutal rage she'd seen in him had ebbed.

His features didn't appear so gruesome to her. No longer did he seem like a monster—only a now unfamiliar male, one with an animal need to claim what he viewed as his to take.

“Doona run from me . . .”

She eased her body toward him, seeming to confound him. “I won't.” At her words, his eyes lit somehow with both relief and anguish. “I've just . . . I'd never seen anything like you—and I was frightened.”

“Should be . . . if you knew what I need, what I intend . . . tae do . . .” His hand shot forward to claw off her shorts.

“No, damn it! Just give me—give me a minute to process all this!”

When he forced her beneath him and began
biting
off her shirt, she screamed, “No!”

Light exploded. Power emitted from her hands and eyes, briefly blinding her. When she blinked her eyes open, they went wide. As if bound, MacRieve was pressed against a great ceiba tree, arms pinned back until his palms rested on the thick trunk behind him.

Holy hell.

He thrashed to free himself, his claws digging down into the striated bark. But whatever binding she'd used on him held firm. “Don't struggle—you can't get free. You'll just hurt yourself.” When she realized he wasn't fighting only against her magick but against turning completely, she
unsteadily rose and crossed to him. “Why do you fight it still?”

His eyes were so full of yearning. “
Want you.
”

When she could drag her gaze from his face, she saw his clothing was riddled with holes. “Oh, gods, you've been shot! How many damned times— How could you hold the truck? And get us out of the river?”

As though with pride, his chin jutted up just a touch. “
Keep you safe.
”

And her heart melted for this beast.

“You did, Bowen. You freed me and kept me safe.” The carnage had all been to protect her—brought on because those men had planned to hurt her again and again. Bowen had killed so savagely only for her. Now she wanted to protect him as well, to heal the countless injuries he'd borne for her. “Can I use more magick on you?”

He eagerly nodded. “Knock me . . . unconscious . . . bash my head against a rock . . . know you can.”

“That wasn't quite what I had in mind.” She thought they'd been washed downstream far enough away from the bunker but still asked, “Would you scent if men got near us?”

“Aye. No one comes near you.”

She nodded. “Bowen, I'm going to keep you like this for a little bit, okay?” she murmured as she began removing his clothes. When she stripped him of his bullet-riddled shirt, she realized that
she
could move his limbs and hands, positioning them at will—though he still couldn't.

This was some heady magick. She felt powerful and in control—such a change from how she'd felt fleeing Bowen, or when she'd been forced at gunpoint to that dismal bunker.

She removed his boots, then very carefully undid the
bulging zipper of his jeans. She could perceive his body quaking with anticipation, could hear low growls rumbling from his chest as his erection sprang forth. The crown was glistening, the shaft engorged and straining toward her. As she worked down his jeans, her hair slid over it, and he gave a harsh gasp.

Once he was unclothed, she began rubbing his skin with sweeping strokes, as she'd seen other witches do for a healing. Over each of the wounds, her hands turned hot. She knew that she was healing him, somehow melting away the bullets. Her eyes fluttered closed at the strange—but not unpleasant—sensation. When she moved her hand from an area, she left only smooth, unbroken skin behind.

While she ministered to him, she explored him, familiarizing herself with his new form. Without the rage and the blood . . .
I believe I can handle this
. As she continued to caress him, she even found herself aroused by him. His splendid muscles and towering frame were exaggerated, yet beneath the image of the beast flickering over him and the changes to his body, his skin was still much the same.

Reaching behind him, she felt bullet wounds on his shoulder blades and high on the back of his thigh. He licked and kissed her neck as she trailed one of her hands over his back, the other over the rock-hard muscles of his ass.

Only when he nipped at her neck did she comprehend that she had a naked, almost fully turned werewolf trapped by her power.

To do with as she wished.

At that moment, she realized her intent with him and was surprised by how strong her will was in this.

Somehow . . . Mari was going to have him, completely.

S
he will no' run,
Bowen thought in stunned relief, even as the pressure to claim her, to mark her, grew. He grappled to free himself from her hold, though he recognized that when he was pinned like this, she could explore him, study him—possibly lose her fear of him. “No' repulsed by me?”

“No, if you're not coated in blood and it's not dripping from your big fangs,” she said matter-of-factly, as she rubbed her soft, soft hands over him. “I'm not going to lie to you—that scared the living hell out of me. But I think . . . I believe I'm getting more used to you now.”

“Even when I'm like . . . this? After I killed?”

She nodded. “The world's a better place now that you've destroyed those men,” she said. “But are you all right with what I'm doing, Bowen?”

She kept asking him to make sure
he
was comfortable in the midst of this. Though he felt no more injuries, she continued to touch him, but why?

Every muscle in his body shot tense when he caught the exquisite scent of her growing arousal. “Free me!” She wanted him, too. Even when he was like this, her body was readying for his, and he hadn't yet touched her.

“No, I can't do that,” she said. “I won't. Just let me ease into this.”

Naturally, she would be tentative. He could take wary over disgusted any day. “Then bare yourself.”

Taking her hands from him, she peeled her sodden top over her head, yet hesitated with her bra. He jerked a nod at it, and at last she revealed full, creamy flesh for him. He could gaze at her breasts forever. Her nipples were the same ruby color as her lips—that attracting red that made him feel wild to have his mouth on them.

“Everything off.” He gaped in delight, eyes following her every movement as she stripped down. Her misted skin was beautiful, and, he knew, would be so supple under his tongue.

When undressed, she returned to cupping and kneading him, her breasts slipping across his chest. But soon it felt like her hands kept rubbing where they'd just been, until his entire body was being stroked. He shuddered and his legs went weak.

“What're you . . . doin' tae me?”

A siren's throaty voice. “I don't know. It's just happening.”

“
Go mad . . . from this . . . feels so fucking good
—”

His words died when she knelt before him. He stared in disbelief as she took his shaft in her hand and with her stunning face caressed the length.
Dreaming . . . must be.
She couldn't be real.

His female
was
straight from his dreams. And she was gazing up at him with her eyes filled with . . .
desire for him
.

He felt her warm breath just before she lovingly licked the slit of his cock head. Yelling out, he tried to rock his pinned hips, wanting deeper between those moist, red lips.

*  *  *

The hint of salt on her tongue made her hungry for more and aroused to the point of agony.

Bowen stared down at her as if in awe, seeming to memorize the sight of her pleasuring him. His body was so responsive. When she licked the underside of his shaft from the crown to the base, he bit out wicked oaths. Her tongue against his heavy sack stopped his breath.

And as she took the slick head deep in her mouth, he shuddered violently, his chest muscles bulging with strain. His flesh throbbed against her lips, making her moan around him.

She couldn't take all of his length, so she used her hand as well to fondle him. Under her palm, she could feel that the base of his shaft was swollen, thick with semen, and her sex clenched for him, wanting to be filled.

On the verge, he was struggling to thrust farther into her mouth. Then he seemed to shake himself. “
No' like this,
” he choked out the words.
“Need inside you.”

Though she could kiss him all night, Mari wanted him inside her, too. With a final lingering lick, she released him and stood.

Studying the logistics, she debated the safest way to do this. Decided, she pressed her hands against his shoulders. As they both eased down to kneel, his arms slid along the trunk, still locked in position. Tilting her head, she worked his knees apart to bring him farther down. When he was more in line with her, she turned around and backed up to him, until her sex was resting on top of his jutting shaft.

“
Inside you.”
He sounded tormented that he couldn't penetrate her.
“Put it in.
”

She leaned against his chest and turned her head, pressing open kisses to his neck and murmuring, “I want to be ready for you. Be patient with me. . . .”

*  *  *

“
I'm bloody tryin'!”

The witch took one of his hands and moved it for him, using his fingers to strum her nipples. His other hand she drew lower, past her flat belly, past the ring that aroused him so. When she pressed his whole palm between her legs, cupping the moisture, he yelled out.

Strangling frustration
—to feel how wet she was but not be able to put his tongue or shaft between her thighs . . .

When she worked one of his fingers inside her and moaned low, he frantically rubbed his face against her damp cheek and neck.

Then a second finger. Torture. “
So tight.
”

As she began to fuck herself with them, readying for him, he roared with agony, about to lose control of his senses. His cock throbbed painfully, jerking up between her legs, pulsing with each wild beat of his heart. “
Inside you. Now!
”