Psy & Changelings 10 - Kiss of Snow

heart of him was very much in charge, he shifted up her body even as he slid his hand down to cup her with breathtaking intimacy, using one finger to stroke the excruciatingly sensitive entrance to her body. She arched into the touch, and when he bent to take her mouth, she took his in turn. His body was warm muscle and heavy weight on top of her. And his chest . . .
    She rubbed against the fine, soft hairs that covered the ridged plane, her nipples tingling with sensation. When he pushed a finger inside of her, she bit down on his shoulder. He growled, holding her head against him as he stroked that finger in and out in a maddening rhythm.
    Insane, she thought, he was going to drive her insane. Releasing her grip on his shoulder, she grabbed his head between her palms. “Now.”
    The wolf looked out at her. “In a minute.” He inserted a second finger, parted them inside, caressing her in the most intimate fashion.
    “Hawke.” She could feel an orgasm approaching again, knew she wasn’t going be able to fight it.
    Of course he didn’t back off. He petted her even more outrageously. She fell hard—and came to rest in his arms, her entire body so limp with pleasure that the idea of moving was not even to be considered. But when he kissed her, she found she had just enough energy to return the long, lazy tangling.
    A stroke inside her, and her tissues quivered at the realization that his fingers were still lodged within. “Sorry,” she murmured, “going to sleep now.”
    A sexy, sexy laugh. Raining a line of hot, wet kisses down her throat as he withdrew his fingers, he spread her legs. It came to her that he was wearing his jeans, that she had on the remains of her shirt. “Clothes.”
    “Hmm.” A momentary coldness and then he was back, hot and hard and very, very aroused.
    She sucked in a breath as he pushed in with the blunt head of his cock, her fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders. It still wasn’t comfortable, but oh, the rough friction felt good. Pushing one hand into his hair, she undulated her pelvis toward him, welcoming his possession. He shuddered, taking a hard grip on her hip. And then he thrust.
    She jerked, tried to process the sensations, realized there was no managing this.
    His hand clenching and unclenching on her hip, the bare kiss of claws. It made her shiver, meet his gaze. “Yes,” she said, seeing the unasked question in his eyes, this wolf who’d given her pleasure upon pleasure.
    It was like snapping the leash.
    Untamed and infinitely hungry, he moved over her, in her, with a hot power that had her crying out, her body going tight around the velvet steel of him. Clawing at his back, she felt his muscles bunch under her touch, his body a creation of raw beauty and wild strength.
    Reaching behind himself, he pulled one of her legs off his waist, bent it to the knee, and pushed it wide, spreading her for his possession. His next thrust went so deep it reverberated through her very being. The last thing she remembered was feeling the kiss of claws along the side of her knee as he growled and sank into her in a rush of scalding heat.

Chapter 47
     
    HEART PUMPING LIKE a rapid piston, Hawke raised his head after the orgasm that had almost ripped him in two to look down at the woman who continued to hold him inside. Possessive thing. Nuzzling at her as she tried to open heavy-lidded eyes, he stroked his hand down her thigh and said, “Again.”
    Her response turned the air blue.
    Smiling against her skin, he took a lazy bite out of her breast, licking over the mark that was already fading. He’d just had the best orgasm of his life, and he felt like he had more energy than he knew what to do with. As for his body, it was more than ready. Remaining seated in her snug channel, he stroked and petted as he checked to make sure he hadn’t inadvertently hurt her with his claws.
    There were no cuts, no injuries. The wolf relaxed, content to play now. When she bit him on the arm— hard —the instant he flicked a finger over her clit, he lifted his head. “Still sensitive?”
    “Yes, so don’t even think about it.” Hazy, desire drugged words.
    Moving his hand, he smoothed it down her leg instead, teasing his fingers over the soft skin at the back of her knee. “Hmm.” It was a pleasure all its own to pull out of her tight sheath, especially when her lips parted in a wordless murmur of reluctance.
    Pleased with every single thing about her, he flipped her onto her