Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

her wolf. Still, she acknowledged his words with a nod.
    “I need your touch,” he said in a gravelly voice.
    The air around them shimmered with Chrechte power and she knew his beasts were close to the surface. As incredible as she found his dragon and as much as she wanted to meet his raven, at this moment, she would scream in frustration if either took over his form. There was only one way to keep the beasts at bay.
    Satisfy their hunger.
    She took his arousal in both her hands, this time automatically using the grip and movements he taught her. Sliding his foreskin back and forth over that hardened shaft, she found as much pleasure in the doing as he seemed to find in being done to.
    “Oh, yes…just like that, faolán .”
    “I am not so little.” She was not as tall as some of the Chrechte women, but not as short as some of the human females, either.
    “You are my little wolf,” he said without apology.
    And she could not disagree. Not in that moment. Her wolf simply would not let her, nor would that part of her heart he’d managed to unearth.
    He made a sound deep in his throat and she could tell his control was slipping, though he was no longer in danger of shifting. Not at all. She increased the pace of her movements, enjoying how slick he’d gotten from the fluid seeping out of the slit in the tip of his penis.
    Her wolf loved the scent and wanted another taste, but she could not stop touching him long enough to indulge herself.
    And suddenly with a shout, his erection throbbed in her hand and hot ejaculate hit her body. Her head dropped back and she let out a howl in triumph, her human throat emulating her wolf more closely than it had ever done before.
    He yanked her into his body and slammed his mouth down on hers in a kiss so hot, she melted under it. Evenafter his release, his shaft was still hard against her and his hands were busy rubbing his seed into her body.
    Her wolf understood what he was doing and approved. Eirik marked her with his scent in a way that unmistakably said she was his.
    “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips. “Now I can take you without losing control this first time.”
    His concern for her warmed that place deep in her heart further.
    “My wolf liked it.”
    “I could tell,” he said with a smile in his voice.
    “She wants to scent you,” Ciara admitted.
    “After.”
    Her wolf purred its approval as Ciara’s thighs tightened, that place between them throbbing as she agreed with a nod. “After.”
    He spread her bedding fur on the ground and the blanket on top of it. Then, without warning, he swept her up and laid her on their makeshift bed on the forest floor.
    “This is where you belong.”
    “In your bed?” she asked.
    “Aye.”
    “The plaid and fur are mine though.”
    “Then ’tis our bed.”
    And why did that sound so good? So perfect to both her wolf and her heart?
    He leaned down and nuzzled against her stomach, her breasts, a pleased rumble sounding from his chest. “You smell like me.”
    “That was the intent, was it not?”
    “Aye. My dragon likes it. My raven is cawing in triumph inside me.”
    His openness and honesty amazed her. “You sound kind of awed. I don’t believe you are a virgin.”
    He was too knowing, and besides he’d implied as much earlier.
    “I am not, but my beasts have never craved the same lover.”
    She realized two things at once. The first, that she had two Chrechte spirits wanting to claim her. Her wolf preened in triumph at the thought.
    Ciara’s second insight was not so pleasant— she did not like hearing about his other women. When her wolf snarled her displeasure at the secondary import of his words, she didn’t even try to keep it inside.
    “You don’t like knowing I have had sex with others.” He sounded much too satisfied by that observation for her liking.
    But she could not deny it. “No.”
    It would do no good the way he could scent her deceptions.
    “The Éan are not so limiting about acts of sex between Chrechte as your father’s pack,” Eirik reminded her.
    The words did nothing to soothe her. The Donegal pack had not been, either, but Ciara’s own views were exactly that. Her own. She did not expect others to share them, but nor could he expect the difference between their viewpoints to bring her no pain, either.
    “My mother taught me that sex is a sacred act.” And Abigail’s teachings had supported that belief.
    “It can be,” Eirik said in surprisingly easy agreement.