Unable to wait a second longer, he nudged the thick head into her opening. Slowly he penetrated her tight sheath, allowing her to expand to his size, and pressed deeper as she wrapped her legs around him.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, as if she suddenly remembered the injury to his arm, pausing as she touched the skin below the bruising.
He groaned in response, eliciting a naughty smile from her lips. For the moment, he felt as if he'd never been bitten, nothing was hemming him in, the world was right again.
He tilted off her a bit so he could reach her most erotic spot, loved the way she tightened her hold on his waist as he stroked her into ecstasy, her pink feminine lips wet with need. She arched into his hand, begging for more, faster, slower, harder. And then she let out a shudder, a satisfied sigh, her face and nipples flushed, her body trembling, gripping his erection with the most erotic sensation as he renewed his thrusts.
Deeper, faster, he found she was the maker of heady dreams, the one he'd been needing to sate his sexual desires since he'd had any interest in the opposite sex. But she'd aroused something more primal, something darker, something that he couldn't identify. He wanted her, craved having her for something longer-term. Crazy. The blood from his brain had slipped into his cock and that was what was making him feel so light-headed, so powerless under her spell.
Her fingers dug into his butt, and he swore she came again. And that did it, with her hands squeezing his flesh, her inner muscles wringing his erection, he came with a final thrust. Spent, satiated, the most content he'd been in forever, he collapsed on her possessively, spreading his legs over hers, pinning her to the mattress, his erection still inside her. His.
"Hmm." She skimmed her nails down his back in tantalizing caresses designed to stir him up again, like a sexy siren bent on seducing him.
But she didn't need to make the effort. She'd caught his attention the minute she'd walked in on him when he was naked, towel-drying his wet hair in his hotel room. And he'd wanted her then, the offer of dinner only the beginning.
He chuckled and kissed her lips, tonguing her tongue, already wanting more. "If you'd stayed last night, I wouldn't have seen your erotic bed wear."
She laughed and pulled at his earlobe with a gentle tug. "I'll have you know I only wear that on snowy excursions when I'm going to be alone. Or at least think I'm going to be alone. It was a gift from a girlfriend for when…" She paused and a flicker of darkness fluttered across her face. But she didn't say anything further.
Not wanting to ruin the mood, although he desired to know what she was going to say, he kissed her cheek and rolled over, pulling her with him to cuddle against his chest, her legs spread provocatively over his, his hand stroking down her back to the cleft in her sweet little derriere. "Absolutely works for me." In fact, anything she wore, or didn't wear suited him fine. "I should start a nice hot fire."
The place was much too cold, and although he was still enjoying the heat of her body, he felt her tremble from the chill in the air and chill bumps were rising on her arm. He was ready to warm up the place and take another long winter's nap with Faith since he'd had such a fitful sleep last night and having sex with her had finally settled his unfathomable desire to run off into the woods.
But she was already pulling away. He should have expected it, because she'd said she was a morning person, but he wasn't, and he wanted to enjoy her in bed a good deal longer.
She glanced at her watch. "I was thinking about running back to the trailhead and reporting Lila's wolf attack and that someone had stolen our snowmobiles. Take you in to see a doctor also."
"Since whoever it was already returned the snowmobiles, I doubt the police would care. And my arm is fine now." He held her tight, still wanting to keep her in bed, to possess her, to prevent her from leaving. "Why don't you stay here until I get the place warmed up at least?"
That's when the sound of dogs barking in the distance caught his attention.
Instantly, a new primitive need ran amok through his system. The need to dominate the pack.
Chapter 7
CAMERON ACTED AS THOUGH HE WANTED TO KEEP FAITH IN bed forever, which was a heady kind of feeling she had to squash before she got used to the idea of having him around. Already the thought of returning alone to her home in Portland seemed cold and unappealing, when normally, being alone suited her fine, once Hilson took off. But God, she'd never had a man who could send her to the moon and back like Cameron had done. And despite her usual need to get up and get to work early in the morning, before the dogs had gotten Cameron's attention she probably would have snuggled with him longer. And more, if he'd wanted more. Which she didn't doubt for a second he would have wanted.
She sighed. Even though nothing would come of a fling with Cameron, maybe there was hope she could start over again with someone new, eventually.
But as soon as Cameron heard the dogs barking, his whole demeanor changed. At once, he acted much more interested in where the barking was coming from— probably his P.I. instincts. Was it Charles Roux and his sled dog team? She imagined it had to be.
The sound of snowmobiles drawing closer filled the air next. Before Faith could get free of Cameron and the bed, the snowmobiles parked outside her cabin, and a few seconds later someone pounded on her door, giving her a start.
"Maybe it's Charles bringing our ice for the ice box and another five-gallon container of water," she teased, not believing it, as early in the morning as it was, but if the dogs they'd heard barking belonged to Charles Roux and he'd returned home, he might be dropping by to complain if he'd discovered Cameron had fired up the hot tub without his permission.
"It's about time we got some service around here," Cameron said with a wink, although he didn't sound like he believed it either as he climbed out of bed and jerked on his jeans.
Faith hurried to get dressed. She quickly ran a brush through her hair as Cameron finished buttoning his shirt and looked over at her. "Ready?"
She nodded.
As soon as Cameron opened the door, she saw two policemen standing beyond their snowed-in entryway—Adams and Whitson. The same ones who had spoken to them in Millinocket when they'd been at Kintail's office and found the dead body. She closed her gaping mouth. With them coming all the way out here this early in the morning, it couldn't be a social call.
Officer Adams flipped through a notebook. "Faith O'Malley? Cameron MacPherson?"
"Did you learn anything more about the dead man?" Faith asked, hoping this was good news and nothing more that was bad.
"May we come in?" Adams asked, his tone more of a directed suggestion rather than a question.
This smacked of an investigation—as if Cameron and she were under the gun.
Cameron motioned for them to enter, although getting through the piled up snow for them was a trial.
Then a man appeared in a parka, his fur-trimmed hood framing his darker skin, his dark eyes focused on Cameron as he trudged into the snow piled up on their porch. "Charles Roux, owner here. I'll bring a shovel and clear the snow away. Return later to talk with you folks," he directed to Faith and Cameron.
Talk to them later about what? The hot tub?
She suspected they were in more trouble than that, if the police had anything to do with it. The officers came inside and shut the door.
"Green tea?" Faith asked the men. She was shivering between the cold in the cabin from the fire going out and letting in the frigid air from outside. At least the wind seemed to have stopped and the snow was no longer falling.