“Adonis?” He gave her a wicked smile.
She pursed her lips. “He’s extremely handsome.”
“He looks like me.” He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it hanging open.
She looked at his chest, and yes, the corded muscles, the smattering of dark hair stretching down to his waistband, the bronze skin that took her breath away whenever she spied him in the woods of her dreams...
She wanted to reach out to touch him, to feel his skin sizzling beneath her fingertips.
“Why didn’t you tell me we’ve been dream mated?’ Her gaze shifted to his eyes. “I never saw his face.” He frowned, cupped her face, and thought for a moment. “Ah. Because I’m the one who has the gift. But you pick up on some of it because you’re my soul mate.” He pressed her hands firmly against his chest. Do you remember the beating of my heart? The way I feel? The way my mouth feels against yours? Lelandi, you were always the one. The first time I came to you, someone had called your name and in your dream state you had mouthed your name, trying to make sense of it, unable to wake fully. You said your name against my mouth again. But I could never learn your last name.”
He was the one. So why was she still reluctant to give herself to him? Her sister. She couldn’t break free of the notion her sister had meant something to him.
He pulled Lelandi from the bed into his embrace and held her tight. “What I’d had with Larissa didn’t feel right, but she’d told me she didn’t have any family. And she used the name I knew you by. I assumed the dreams I shared with you were fantasy and making love with you in the flesh wasn’t supposed to be as erotic.”
Her sister had lied. She’d duped him and... and he hadn’t meant anything to her as Lelandi had feared.
She touched his chest with trembling fingers, wanting what he offered, the sexual connection she’d shared with him upon sleeping, but afraid, too, of the consequences. “There’s... there’s no going back.”
“As if I’d give you up for anything in the world, Lelandi. You’re the one I’ve searched for every night, longing to be reunited with you. The one who haunts my dreams until we’re together again. It’s you.”
Right or wrong, she pressed her lips against his, giving herself willingly to him and was immediately transported to the dream. Except it was no longer a dream. This time he captivated all of her senses. His sexual pheromones filled her nostrils like an aphrodisiac, his essence overwhelming her senses.
“There’s no going back,” she repeated, her voice soft, worried.
She’d defy her pack and her family’s wishes. But she wouldn’t be like Larissa. Her mating would be final, like it was for other lupus garous. No other would come between them.
He stroked her hair with loving caresses. “You couldn’t come into a wolf’s heat until I reached out to you. You are mine.”
Like a feral wolf who caught his prey and claimed her, he kissed her greedily, possessively. No more gentleness, waiting to make sure she agreed. And she loved it. His hands tangled in her long hair, and he grabbed handfuls, his smoldering gaze raking over her nakedness. But she couldn’t take her eyes off his face, the chiseled features, the predatory look, the face she’d so wanted to see, but couldn’t in her dreams.
Releasing her hair, he slid his hands down her shoulders to her breasts, his palms massaging them. His thumbs caressed her nipples, teasing them to beg for more. His tongue plunged into her mouth, melting any denial she might have that he was the one. Tremulous shivers of pleasure sizzled across her bare skin. His rigid erection pressed against her waist, urgent, hungry to batter down her virginal barrier.
She maneuvered around him so that his back was to the bed, then using his shirt to hold him hostage, she pushed him onto the mattress. His mouth curved up and his eyes sparkled with dark delight. She pressed his legs apart and moved in between them. This time she was in charge, uninhibited like in her dreams.
Intending to work up nice and slow and torture him, she already craved flopping on her back and letting him take her. So much for her wanting to be in charge. She reached down to unfasten his belt, and he folded his arms behind his head and watched her struggle. But she couldn’t unhook the belt no matter how much she tried. Finally, he chuckled low, quickly stripped, then pulled her on top of him, bare skin to bare skin.
He was gorgeous—every buff, corded muscle tensed in anticipation. The smattering of dark hair covering his chest trailed down toward the curly hairs between his legs, and she considered the way his erection was already ramrod stiff, thick and readied, poking her in the belly. This was the way she remembered him in the pale light of the moon, the look and feel of his hard muscles, the touch of his soft skin, the way his nipples pebbled with her mouth and tongue grazing them. He swept his hands down her arms, sending a rush of tingling straight to her core, a thousand times more pleasurable than in the dreams.
She ran her fingers over the muscles in his chest, and his arousal jumped. She smiled and looked up at his face, his eyes glazed over, his lips curving up slightly. She shifted, straddling him, her knees bent, spreading them outward, wanting to capture the pike poking between her legs. Hot and wet and way past ready.
He groaned and roiled her onto her back, then leaned against her. She loved It when he took charge. He was like her dream lover, but the feelings were richer, his touch more arousing, every sense on high alert as she smelled his sexual desire, heard his heart pumping pell mell, and felt his aroused breath against her cheek. Pure eroticism stoked every nerve ending.
Clutching handfuls of his shoulder-length hair, she arched her pelvis against him, seeking gratification, her body screaming with unfulfilled need. Responding to her, he rubbed his heavy groin against her folds and elicited a soft, deep-throated moan from her.
But he refused to enter her yet. Instead, he smiled and flicked his tongue against her sensitive nipple, his gaze focused back on hers. She bucked against him, wanting him to enter her, to make her his mate, to complete the bond that would last forever. But he wouldn’t hurry no matter how much she desired him to, and instead, swept his fingers down her waist, then lifted his body off her slightly, touching the erotic zone at the apex of her thighs. He stroked her hard and fast, and she could barely take the delicious pleasure of his touch. Slipping his fingers lower, he inserted them deeply inside her.
Hoarsely, he said. “You’re wet for me.”
She bit his shoulder with a mock nip, and he thrust his head back and laughed. Of course she was wet. As soon as he’d advanced toward her in the bedroom with that hungry, feral look in his eyes, the moisture had gathered between her legs.
He thrust his fingers deep inside her, simulating what he would do with his engorged erection, soon, she hoped as he wrung out every emotion, pumping up her craving, just a thread short of completion. Then her internal muscles convulsed with orgasm and a wave of heat surged through her. His fingers stilled inside her, he gave her a satisfied smile.
Oh heavens, she’d come with just his fingers inside her. Sweet passion spiraled through her and with a soft moan, she called out his name, loving that she could now say it, no longer silenced like in the dream.
Darien’s expression filled with deep satisfaction, and she loved seeing how much he enjoyed giving her pleasure. But they weren’t done, not until they’d truly mated.
Finally,” he whispered in her ear, “you know me. And now, it’s my turn.” His eyes held a roguish gleam. And she was ready.
God of thunder, Lelandi was beautiful. Darien wanted to laugh when she took charge, then quickly ceded, melting to his strokes. And now he had her where he desired her, the vixen.