He shoved his pants and underwear down to his knees. "You're ready for me, aren't you? You're slick and hot."
Her feet pressed into his shoulders as she tried to wiggle closer to his erection. "Do it. Now."
There was no way he was going to rush through this. After eight long years, he finally had her at his mercy. He'd make her scream, over and over again.
He slowly pushed her dress past her hips and left it wadded up at her waist. Then he skimmed his fingers across her bare stomach. Her muscles rippled with a tiny spasm.
"Do it." She was starting to pant.
He dragged his fingers into her pubic hair. The brown curls glistened with moisture.
"Get on with it." She squirmed.
"Chill. Like you said, it's just sex."
She gritted her teeth. "Stop reminding—Aah!" Her body jolted when his fingers slid between her wet folds.
He explored her, exulting in how slippery she was, how engorged she was, and how she trembled and gasped for air. She was already close to coming. His erection hardened painfully, and it took all his control not to drive himself into her.
Instead, he inserted two fingers and rubbed the inside walls of her canal. She groaned and lifted her hips. Her inner muscles clenched at his fingers. Almost there. He circled her clitoris, then tweaked it.
She cried out. Moisture gushed over his fingers, and her body spasmed. He fondled her clitoris and stroked her inside walls, wringing more cries from her, more spasms.
Finally, she went limp. She lifted a hand to her brow. "Oh God. That was…that was…"
"Just sex?"
She shot him an annoyed look. "Yes."
"Good. How much recovery time do you need?"
"None. I'm fine."
"Good." He tugged her bodice down to reveal her breasts. "No bra? My lucky day." He noticed the tips of her rosy nipples were hard.
"I didn't have one that worked with this dress," she mumbled.
He outlined her purple tattoo with his finger. "You have this little bat to scare everyone away from your heart. It doesn't scare me." He leaned over and kissed the tattoo. "I've always wanted to do that. And this." He sucked a nipple into his mouth.
She gasped. Her legs clamped around his waist.
He suckled one breast, then the other. "I have to taste you." He lifted her hips and enjoyed one long lick along her folds.
She shuddered. "Phil…"
He flicked his tongue over her clitoris. Her womanly scent filled his nostrils. Nothing excited his inner wolf as much as smell. The wolf clawed at his control, threatening to overpower him. He couldn't allow himself to go Alpha right now. He could still retain human form while the power of the wolf was unleashed, but it would scare Vanda too much.
He'd reached the tipping point. With a growl, he thrust himself into her. She instantly climaxed, crying out as her inner muscles squeezed him hard. He gripped her hips and pulled her toward him as he ground into her over and over. Her breasts flushed pink. Her breathing was labored.
Their bodies slapped together. He dropped his head back and relished each thrust. This was his woman. He would never give her up. The wolf howled, and his groin grew tight. With a loud groan, he pumped faster and faster.
She screamed and climaxed once again. Her inner muscles clamped down, and he gushed into her. Again and again. He held her tight against him until the last of his spasms faded away.
The dark room was filled with the sound of breathing. His mind slowly cleared. The wolf inside grinned with victory. He'd claimed his woman. The man on the outside wondered if he'd overdone it. He'd intended to attach her to him. What if he'd given into his lust only to chase his loved one away?
She pressed a hand against her chest and closed her eyes as she inhaled slowly and deeply. She seemed calm, but he could still hear her heart racing.
He moved back and slipped out of her body. "Are you all right?"
She opened her eyes, but looked to the side. "Sure."
He touched her cheek. "I've dreamed of doing that for eight years. It was even better than I'd imagined."
"That's good." She struggled to sit up, but her arms shook.
"Need help?"
"No. I'm fine." She reached for her panties.
So, she was going to act aloof. He could take care of that. He pulled his underwear and pants back up. "Thanks, Vanda. You're a great lay."
Her chin snapped up and her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare talk to me like—" Her eyes narrowed. "You're trying to make me angry, aren't you? What kind of anger management sponsor are you?"
"The same kind who engages in forbidden sex. When can we do it again?"
She scoffed. "There's no need to. You got what you wanted."
"You wanted it, too. You screamed at least three times."
Her fingers trembled as she struggled to put her panties back on. "It was…just sex."
"It was a hell of a lot more, and you know it."
She gave him a wary look as she scooted off the table. "I need to get back to the club. It's always busy on Friday night." She adjusted her bodice and smoothed down her skirt.
Dammit, they'd just had mind-blowing sex, and she was acting like it was no big deal. "Don't you want me to hold you for a while? I thought women liked that."
"No thanks." She picked up her sandals, then sat in a chair to put them on. "Do yourself a favor, and don't get your hopes up. I'm never going to love again."
Too late, he wanted to shout at her. She was already his. She just didn't realize it yet.
She finished putting on her shoes. "Karl was my first love, and my last."
Phil winced inwardly. She certainly knew how to throw a punch. A surge of jealousy swept through him. She'd mentioned this Karl before. Logically, he knew Vanda was close to a hundred years old, so it wasn't surprising that she'd been in another relationship or two. Still, he resented this man who had claimed her heart before him. "What was so special about him?"
She shrugged. "He loved me, even though I was undead and filled with rage."
Phil opened his mouth to tell her that he loved her, too, just the way she was, but he stopped. He didn't want to act like he was competing with a dead man. Or any man, for that matter. "Karl is dead."
She glowered at him. "Thanks for reminding me." She turned her head to look out the window. "The Nazis sent their wolves after me, to track me down and kill me. Karl tried to protect me, but the wolves…they…" She grimaced, then lowered her head into her hands.
Damn it to hell. Vanda had witnessed her lover getting ripped apart by wolves? Thank God Karl had managed to protect her, but shit—how could he ever tell her he was a shape shifter?
"Vanda, I'm sorry." He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Karl sounds like a brave man."
She leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder. "He was. He was the leader of the underground resistance in southern Poland. After he died, I never wanted to love again. Then I met Ian, and he grew on me. He looked so much like Jozef, and it was like having a little brother again. But he came close to dying last December, and it all came back to me. The fear. The pain. That's why I can't love again. Especially a mortal. Mortals always die around me."
Phil rubbed his chin against her brow. If only he could tell her he was a werewolf, that he could live for centuries.
She stiffened. "There's something vibrating in your pants. Either you've learned a sexy trick or—"
"It's my walkie-talkie." He stood to retrieve the small two-way radio from his pants' pocket. "Phil here."