Psy & Changelings 10 - Kiss of Snow

the water.
    “Hey!” She pushed back at him as he crowded her into the corner.
    “You wanted to play, baby.” Soft words that had her freezing in place. “So we’ll play.”
    Her mouth went dry as he ran the damp cloth over her lips with piercing focus. She knew she should protest his actions, but her voice seemed to have deserted her with him so close—so big and gorgeous and furious that he took over every inch of space, every breath of air. “There,” he murmured, running the cloth down her neck and over her shoulder before leaning down to press his lips to the bite mark.
    Arousal twisted through her body, until she had to sink her teeth into her lower lip to still her moan . That wasn’t an erogenous zone. She knew that. And yet she didn’t dare move for fear he’d stop the delicious torture. Another kiss, wet and hot. His hair brushing against her skin as he licked the mark, each strand a searing brand.
    “Next time that cub puts his hands on you,” he said, raising his head after another lingering taste of her skin, “I’ll tear out his throat and feed it to him.” The words were said in such a reasonable tone that it took her a minute to process their meaning.
    Lurching up, she grabbed the front of his T-shirt. “You will not touch any of my friends.”
    Patient wolf eyes. Deadly wolf eyes.
    “Hawke.”
    He leaned forward and licked the bite mark again.
    Her entire body shuddered, her breasts protesting the stiff confines of the corset. “No touching Kit,” she whispered, barely able to speak past the dark pressure of a desire so long denied, it threatened to devour her.
    His hand closed around her throat. Not a threat. Just the most possessive way a predatory changeling male had of touching a woman outside of sex. “Don’t say his name.” He brushed his thumb across her pulse.
    Closing her hand over his wrist, she said, “You’re being unreasonable.” The instant the words left her mouth, she realized she wasn’t going to get “human” behavior from him tonight. Hawke’s wolf had always been close to the surface, and right now, it was in charge. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that both man and wolf had shrugged off any pretensions to civilized behavior.
    “I still don’t want to go home.” It wasn’t quite the truth—she’d be delighted to be alone with him. But if she was going to win him, and keep him, he had to understand that he wasn’t going to be able to walk all over her. Because he damn well would if he thought he could.
    His gaze went watchful, waiting.
    “I want to go dancing again.”
    A slow smile.
    “In a club,” she added, quite certain rational thought would become a distant memory if he took her into his arms when they were alone, if he put his mouth on her skin, his hands on her body. “There.” Breasts flushing at the hot pulse of need in the most intimate part of her, she pointed to a random club. “That one looks popular.”
    The growl was so low and deep that she felt it with her body first, her skin shimmering in reaction, the stiff points of her nipples rubbing against the corset. Only the discipline she’d learned in the Net kept her from giving in. “Stop trying to intimidate me.”
    Instead of answering, he returned his attention to the road and began driving. It didn’t take her long to realize they were most definitely heading back to den territory. Recognizing she’d lost that round, she forced herself to regroup, to remember that she wasn’t dealing with the cool, calculating alpha of SnowDancer at this moment, but with the wildness that lived in his heart.
    That didn’t mean she was about to surrender. Even if she had no idea what she’d do if he decided to stop stalking her and pounced. “Do you like my top?”
    “Is that what it is?”
    “Latest style,” she assured him, ignoring the silky menace of his response. “Laces up the side, so it’s easier to take off.”
    His hands clenched on the steering wheel as he headed up into the mountains.
    “And the boots.” She lifted one leg up to the dash, stroked her hand over her thigh. “They make me—”
    The car shuddered to a halt near the perimeter of den territory. Hawke was turning to her when he went motionless in a way she recognized. Predatory. Listening. Snapping to alertness, she brought down her leg and swept out with her telepathic senses . . . to find more than a few Psy minds in the vicinity.
    “Psy,” Hawke said under his breath at the same instant.