"No kisses?" She was almost whimpering with the need for his kiss though. Her lips tingled, her tongue ached to twine with his.
"No kisses," he promised.
She lifted her hands from his chest and raised her arms slowly, allowing him to draw the shirt from her. Sensuality wrapped around them heavily, saturating the air with lust and hunger as he tossed the material aside and stared down at her.
The white lace camisole she wore-in place of a bra adequately covered her, sort of.
"That's cheating." There was no grin, there was only need in his eyes to see her. "Let me take it off, too."
She could feel her nipples rasping against the lace, urging him to do just that. She licked her lips nervously and lifted her arms for him again.
He drew the lace covering from her, the material stroking over her nipples drawing a ragged groan from her. As he tossed the material aside, his hands caught her wrists, holding them over her head as he stared down at her.
"I want to suck your nipples." The blunt, blatant hunger in the words caused her womb to clench in response. Like a punch to her stomach, firing her nerve endings and sending pleasure streaking through her body.
She wanted him to suck her nipples. Her nipples wanted his mouth on them. She ached for it. The flesh between her thighs heated for it. She felt weak, dazed, arousal pouring into every cell and whipping over her nerve endings.
"If I weren't a breed," he told her then, "if I were just a man, I'd lay you down and tempt you with my mouth. I'd suck your pretty nipples until the dark pink blushed a pretty rose. Then I'd go between your thighs and lick the sweetest cream, and know your arousal is just for the pleasure I can give you."
Haley watched the regret that filled him as he stared down at her. He held her wrists easily in one hand. With the other, he cupped the rounded mound of a breast, the tip of a finger stroking over the ultrasensitive, hardened peak.
Haley shuddered. She leaned her head against one of her arms as he held them both over her head and stared up at him.
"I'm going to melt to the floor," she whispered. "We need to stop this."
"I'm still in control," he rasped.
"But maybe I'm not," she gasped.
"I'll keep you in control."
His hand lowered from her breast to the elastic band of her lounging pants.
"Let me." He pushed them over her hips.
Haley stared up at his face. No man had ever stared at her with such need. Even in the height of sex, the few lovers she'd had hadn't looked at her like this.
She trembled as she let him push the loose material over her hips. She watched his face as he stared at the white-lace panties she wore. The French-cut, hip-high panties matched her camisole, and they were damp, wet with her need.
"Ah, Haley." His tone was guttural as she watched in shock as he knelt in front of her.
He had released her hands, but what the hell was she supposed to do with them? The bed. She gripped the footboard as his hands clasped her hips. His face was only inches from her, her flesh covered only by the lace of the panties.
"You don't shave here?" One hand lowered, the backs of his fingers stroking over her mound.
"No." Shock gathered in her voice that he would ask her.
She had tried it, once, and hadn't liked the sensation.
"Good." He crooned, his fingers stroking over her again. "So good. I want to feel your soft curls against my face. Can I do that, Haley? Can I feel your sweet damp curls against my lips? I promise, no tongue."
And she stood there. Stared down at him. And like a woman who enjoyed walking the edge of insanity, she let him draw the panties down her legs.
"You have spots, too." His voice was nearly strangled as he stared at her. And she did have. Freckles over the tops of her thighs and her hips. Not many, a few here and .there. But enough.
"I want to lick them."
She watched his jaw bunch.
"I want to taste you."
He leaned closer, both hands gripping her hips now as he neared the dark red curls between her thighs. Haley had forgotten how to breathe, she was certain of it. Why else did she feel so light-headed, so dazed? So aroused. It was like a fire burning beneath her flesh now, searing her, destroying her senses.
"Haley," he breathed her name against the damp curls, against the engorged bud of her clit, and she jerked, much as he had when she rasped her teeth over his chest.
She knew that pleasure now. Like a strike of brilliant, white-hot heat tearing through her.
"Haley," he breathed again. "Get the hell out of here."
It took long, disbelieving seconds to understand what he was saying.
"What?"
"Go," he growled, his eyes still on her as he licked his lips, his tongue swiping over them. "Get away from me, Haley."
"Noble."
"I'm going to lick that sweet cream. I'm going to bury my tongue inside your pussy and to hell with your anger or your hatred later. Get the fuck away from me."
She shuddered, shaking with the need she couldn't seem to control. She couldn't move. How the hell was she supposed to get away from him?
"Go!" His voice hardened.
The deliberate control in his movements as he released his hands from her hips was frightening. His expression, his eyes as he stared up at her, sent her stumbling back from him.
There was lust and hunger, then there was the pure, unbridled desperation she saw in his face. He would do it. And he was close, so close.
What had she done to him?
She jerked back farther, bending to snatch her clothes when he crouched over them, his gaze brimming with fiery, intent lust.
At that point, Haley all but ran from his bedroom. As she glanced back at the doorway, she nearly changed her mind. Nearly went to her knees in front of him and took everything he had to give her.
In one hand he held her lace panties to his mouth and nose, his eyes were closed, and his expression, his expression was pure, wicked pleasure.
She had to force herself to turn and go to her own room. Had to force herself away from him. And she had a feeling running was only delaying the inevitable. He was going to end up in her bed. And he was going to be there soon.
Chapter 7
The night was hell. The next morning was an exercise in restraint that had Noble's control stretched to its limits. The day was gray, the clouds lying heavy as more snow drifted over the mountains.
There was more than two feet out there, and the city was struggling to keep up as more snow was forecast. Winter was driving in hard and heavy, unlike anything they had seen in years. The winds swirled and moaned as the icy cold tried to penetrate every crack and pore of the house.
Haley had lit the fire that morning. Noble had carried in the firewood from the back porch and watched as she efficiently set fire to the tinder, building the coal bed with the smallest logs before placing the larger ones on it.
She did it the old-fashioned way. She used untreated firewood, preferring, she said, the scent of the wood over the fumes of the chemicals.
And as the afternoon progressed, he found her more and more often in front of the fire, her legs curled beside her as she sat on the thick, heavy rug before the hearth and leaned into the fat, fluffy pillows she'd had stored beside the couch.
She watched the fire as though it held the answers to every question she had ever asked.
Behind her, the Christmas tree twinkled with a million lights, the gaily wrapped presents beneath it gleaming with brilliant colors.
He'd never experienced Christmas. He'd been out of the labs for ten years, but it had been ten years struggling to aid the survival of the breed communities. The feline compound of Sanctuary as well as the Colorado-based wolf breed compound, Haven.
Christmas had been just another day for him, until now. Until he saw all the careful planning and the joy that would have gone into it for Haley.