A Werewolf to Call Her Own (Mystic Isle, Book 2) by Selena Blake Read Free Book Online Page A

imagery entered his mind. Her up against the far wall, her head tossed back, one leg hiked up over his hips. He slid her bathing suit to the side and had his pants unzipped, cock out, fucking her sweet pussy while she threaded her fingers through his hair, whispering his name over and over as they soared upward. They came just as the car reached his room. Breathing hard, they didn’t even separate as the doors slid open. He simply lifted her, his cock still buried deep, and stepped off the elevator.
    “Is everything okay?” she asked, her lips millimeters from his.
    The soft feminine tone pulled him back from his X-rated thoughts.
    She stared up at him with concern in her violet eyes, and her silky hair tickled his fingers as it rained down her back. She seemed a little breathless and that made him smile. “Everything’s fine.” He flexed his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips, assuring himself that she was real. Not a dream. “Better than fine. You make me lose my head.”
    He didn’t like admitting how much she got to him, but it was true. And she was so young, so inexperienced, she could use the reassurance. She certainly wasn’t the type to use it against him. At least, he didn’t think so. But a few hours had changed her. She seemed more alive. Bolder now.
    One thing was certain, the gym shorts and T-shirt she’d been wearing when he met her didn’t measure up against her current attire. Not that he planned on letting her wear it much longer.
    He couldn’t wait to tug the straps down her arms, reveal her breasts. She stared up at him, her big violet eyes going soft and dreamy, reminding him that he needed to go slow with her. But werewolves were not used to going slow when it came to sex. But for her, he would. He’d find the strength to rein in the wolf and treat her like a treasure.
    And maybe if he was lucky she’d let him back into her mind so he could hear her thoughts, read her mind, and learn what she was really thinking. Feeling. She had moments of utter transparency, like on the rooftop, watching the fireworks. But the next minute she would be closed off, a shell erected around her. He didn’t want anything separating them. Not clothing. Not ghosts from her past. Not insecurity. When he took her, he wanted her completely bared to him.
    Taking a deep breath, he slid his hands back up her sides, memorizing every inch as he went. Then he cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly. Her lips were cool beneath his, firm yet supple. She slid her fingertips up his chest and fisted his shirt in her hands. Clinging to him, her lashes fluttered closed. She kissed him back, tentatively.
    He teased the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. For a heartbeat, she was completely still. Then she opened for him and he lost himself in the wetness of her mouth. Her tongue touched his, slowly, shyly at first. Then, with more force.
    He massaged her lower back with one hand, urging her closer. She might be young, but her body obviously needed no coaching. He groaned when she nipped his lower lip. Her tongue immediately soothed the pain.
    He severed the kiss and tipped his forehead against hers. Hell. He was out of breath. He was never out of breath.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered, kissing his lip.
    “Don’t --”
    He felt the elevator stop, tipping him forward, and heard the doors open. Vaguely he thought to get off, but the woman in his arms thrust her fingers through his hair, driving him temporarily mad.
    “Sierra,” he warned. “I’m trying to slow things down.”
    Trying and failing, the wolf snarled, ready to bend her over the nearest horizontal surface and fuck her until they both passed out.
    “I don’t want to go slow. I’m tired of living in slow motion.” Her words rang in his ears and his lust-filled brain tried to compute them. But she didn’t wait. No, she hopped up, chest against chest and wrapped her legs around his hips. The crotch of her swim suit slid against his cock, spurring