“No, it’s not.” His words came out slow and measured as he rose to his feet.
She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. “Well that’s too bad, because I’m not marrying a man who doesn’t love me!”
Rory stared at her for a full minute, mouth gaped open like a trout, face turning redder and redder. Shay mentally counted. Five, four, three, two…
“Are you daft, woman? Not love you?” He threw his arms open wide. “You think I’d be doing all this if I didn’t?” he yelled.
She leaned forward and shouted in his face. “How the hell would I know? You aren’t the sanest of men. One minute you’re never letting me go, the next you’re calling Kiesha to come and get me and I’m supposed to think you love me?” She wanted to throw something at him.
“I already apologized for that!”
“When?” she demanded, furious now.
He dropped his hands to his sides as his mouth worked.
“Exactly.” She spun on her heel and walked to the dresser. No, too many weapons. She switched directions and headed to the window.
Behind her, Rory heaved a heavy sigh. Seconds later his image showed behind her in the glass she was looking at instead of through, his heat warming her back.
“Shayla, I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
Darn tootin’ you were.
“I love you so much it scares me.”
Uh-huh, pull the other one.
“When we met, I knew you were the one, my mate, and I fought it with everything in me. If it hadn’t been for events at the blue moon, I don’t think I would ever have claimed you.”
Shay frowned. Way to convince me, stud.
“But I did, and as a result I’m happier than I’ll ever be able to show. I’m also scared shitless that I’ll fuck up or worse, be the monster my father was and lose you as a result.”
That caught her attention, and she turned to face him. “Rory, you are not your father. How many times do I have to say it?”
He held her gaze. “Shay, you didn’t know him. You didn’t live with him. When I look in the mirror, I see his eyes looking back at me.”
“Well, look again or get your eyes checked, ’cause you talking like this is doing nothing but pissing me off. You think Shannon would love you if you were anything like him?”
“What about you, Shay? I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve here.”
She closed her eyes. Quit being such a wimp and answer the man’s question. When she opened them, he was still staring at her, waiting. “Maybe…I think…I don’t know, okay? I thought maybe I did, but then you went and got stupid on me and pissed me off. Then I didn’t know anymore. Bottom line, I’m not going to love you unless I’m sure my feelings are returned.” With her eyes, she dared him to complain.
Rory’s smile began in his eyes before spreading to his mouth. He stepped closer and put one arm around her waist. The other cupped her nape under her hair. His erection brushed her stomach. Why he was suddenly turned on she had no idea.
“You love me.” He sounded very sure.
“I said maybe,” Shay grumbled.
“That’s why you stayed and why you’re still here. It has nothing to do with the babe.”
She scowled. “Of course it doesn’t, asshole. You think I need you to raise my child?”
He smirked, and Shay, realizing what she’d said, stated hastily, “That means absolutely nothing.”
“Aye, it does.” He kissed the protest off her lips.
Rory stripped her shirt over her head and dived back into the kiss once her face was clear.
He backed away, pulling Shay with him until their progress was halted by the bed. “Don’t ever wear a bra. I love looking at your breasts. They make me hard.”
“Everything makes you hard.”
“You make me hard.” He sniffed. “And I make you cream. I can smell your arousal.” His smile was full of self-satisfaction.
“Beast.”
“Yeah, and you love it when I go wild.”
Since it was true, Shay didn’t see the point in arguing.
“Strip.” Rory sat on the mattress and leaned back on his elbows to watch.
Shay raised her eyebrows but obligingly removed her shoes, pants, and underwear.
“Now me.” He raised his arms. Shay straddled his lap and lifted his shirt over his head before tossing aside.
Rory bent his head, captured a nipple, and suckled lightly, releasing it with a pop. Shay grabbed his face and directed him to the other one. He toyed with it, then the folds of her sex, easily penetrating her with one, then two fingers.
Shay was lost in pleasure, riding his hand, when a stinging slap to her butt had her rearing back, fist clenched and raised, ready to strike.
“I’m not naked,” he reminded. One eyebrow arched as his gaze drifted from her face to her fist, then returned to her face.
Eyes narrowed, Shay lowered her feet to the floor and reached for the waistband of Rory’s jeans. She popped open the button, then eased down the zipper. The shiny, engorged head of his cock popped out, tempting Shay to taste.
She dipped down and swiped her tongue over the slit. When his hips jerked, she did it again, then engulfed the tip in her mouth.
Rory said something Gaelic that sounded like a curse as he lifted her off him. “Love, as good as that feels, I’ve something different in mind.”
He gently moved her out of the way and rose to remove the rest of his clothing. Then he lay on the bed and patted the mattress. “Ride me.”
Shay stood there, taking him in. He reclined like a pasha waiting to be serviced by his harem. Viewing all his manly glory—ripped abs and thighs, powerful arms and furred chest that couldn’t hide the underlying muscle, a thick, swollen cock standing at attention—Shay felt like a highly favored sex slave honored to be chosen by her master.
Rory groaned, the sound part frustration, part need. “Shay, I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks. I’m begging you, put me out of my misery.”
No, he wasn’t begging yet, but he would.
Slow and seductive, Shay sank to her knees between his legs. Beginning with his calves, she trailed moist kisses and nibbles to his inner thigh, stopping short of his balls. Ignoring his increasingly impatient demands, she worshipped his legs—stroking, caressing, and rubbing her needy breasts over every inch.
When she was satisfied they’d received enough attention, she moved to his stomach and covered the surface with the same. Rory gripped her by the upper arms to maneuver her into the position he wanted, and Shay bared her teeth.
“My way!”
With a hiss that sounded more feline than lupine, he subsided, dropping his hands to dig into the mattress instead.
Shay directed her attention to his chest and the reddish-brown nipples puckered there. Straddling his thighs to give her more leverage, she licked, tugged, and basically tormented the hell out of Rory.
There was a sharp ripping sound. A quick glance revealed Rory’s claws had sprouted. She smirked. “Hope you have money for a new mattress.”
“Witch,” he griped in a tight, husky voice.
“Yep, and loving every minute of it.”
Claws were good, but Shay wouldn’t be satisfied until he completely lost it. There was something about being wanted so much by a man that he couldn’t control himself that just did it for her.
Bracing her hands on either side of his torso, Shay nibbled her way to his throat. She pulled a pinch of skin between her lips and suckled until a bright red mark appeared. Kissed the hollow in his neck where his pulse pounded a rapid tattoo. Licked his Adam’s apple and then worked her way over to the protruding tendon connecting his shoulder and neck. As she played with it, moistening it with her hot breath and licking the sweat off his skin, Rory grabbed her thighs with his hand and thrust up with his hips. His cock slid through her slick folds, briefly catching on her opening before jumping free.